Subspaces
by Shahrazad63
Summary: Christian and Anastasia - pushing through some limits and revealing more about their pasts...
1. Chapter 1

**It is all about pushing limits... Not a closed story, if this goes well I plan to add more to it as new situations occur to me.**

 **A few words first…**

 **This is my first Fifty Shades Story, my first published fan fiction in years! It took a while for another fandom to inspire me again, and I am glad it happened. English is not my first language, and I am working without a beta, so, if there are any** **annoying mistakes, please let me know, I would really appreciate it. This is always a learning process.**

 **This is not 100% canon. I chose Christian´s POV for the first chapters, because I felt I needed** _ **more**_ **from the character. "Grey" just wasn´t enough for me. I took a few liberties with the characters and the plot here and there. At first it was meant to be only a collection of vignettes that were playing in my head, and then it started growing as I wrote. The idea came to me when the first movie came out, when they released the Earned It videoclip, but only recently I began writing it. If I would have to place it within the trilogy, I would say that it takes place somewhere in Fifty Shades Darker, before the marriage proposal. I just wrote from my heart, for my own enjoyment, I didn´t worry about such details. I hope you´ll read it with the same spirit, so just enjoy it for what it is.**

 **I am rating it M for safety, although the scenes won´t be very explicit. The use of some profanity is inevitable, otherwise Christian would not sound like himself.**

 **The usual disclaimer: The Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I am just playing with some of the characters she created.**

 **The following chapter will be posted next week. Reviews and comments are always welcome!**

 **Thank you all for your patience, and happy reading!**

 **Chapter 01**

 ** _"Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face_**

 ** _And stars fill my dream_**

 ** _I'm a traveler of both time and space_**

 ** _To be where I have been..._** ** _"_**

 ** _Led Zeppelin, Kashmir_**

"This is nice, isn´t it?" Anastasia murmurs.

 _Nice._ There was that word again, she loved it. It was funny how she always used it as an understatement. Yes, it was _nice_ , but it was also so much… _more_ …

I could live anywhere in the world if I wished, but there were always those three main reasons why I chose to remain in Seattle.

My company, my family and the weather.

GEH was thriving, I had no reason to brood about that - perhaps my company was the only aspect of my life I was able to exert full and complete control.

My family… it was all there, written all over their faces whenever I met one of them with Ana by my side - a certain look in their eyes, as if an enormous load was at least partially relieved off their minds. That would be me: not gay, not celibate, not a serial killer. At least they could put their minds at ease, striking all of those other options. Just a sadistic Dom, but hey, they did not need to know about that one - ignorance is bliss! Yes, they were fine, all of them, and giving me enough breathing space for a change.

That left me with the weather.

I knew other successful CEO´s like me who preferred to run their companies while they jet setting around the world or from their high-tech home offices inside their villas in the South of France, but I think would always prefer to be exactly where I am now. Of course it rained on other places of the world, but there was something unique about rain in Seattle. Maybe it was only because it was the only home I´ve ever known. The only real home, at least.

Today is one of those lazy Sunday mornings, angry skies, literally in all shades of grey, rain falling heavily outside, tapping against the windows. As far as I can remember, I have always loved this kind of weather, the perfect balance of light and darkness... and perfect to certain indoor activities, the kinds of physical pursuits I enjoy the most. Not long ago I would be in the playroom in a day like this.

Not today. Not anymore.

Yes, that was… _nice._

"Go back to sleep, Ana. It´s too early, we don´t need to get up yet." I whisper, kissing the top of her head.

"Mmmm. Love this."

When would she ever do what she was told? I sighed, as she continued her sleepy blabbering.

"I want to be trapped in time and space with you…" She yawned. I couldn´t help but smile - the always incurably romantic Miss Steele…

"You could fund some research on that, to stop time… Couldn´t you? Then we could always be here in… in our own private _subspace_ …"

Alarm bells sound when I hear the word.

 _Subspace…_

But then I frown because I have a feeling she is using it in a context different from the one I am used to. No, I don´t think she is aware of what the word could mean to someone like me.

 _"_ _Subspace?_ _"_ I smirk.

There are always interesting possibilities to explore inside Miss Steele´s mind, even when I can hardly keep my eyes open. Well, maybe I will save this one for a later time. It is one of the advantages of being blessed with a near eidetic memory. I rarely forget anything. Not a fucking thing. It is both a blessing and a curse.

I hear one of her delicious giggles in response. I can´t help but smile.

"I´m sorry, I guess I´ve been reading too much science-fiction these days. You know, for work." She mumbles and grumbles for a few moments about some brilliant new author SIP had discovered, and how she plans to convince the board to publish two of his books in a meeting next Tuesday. I don´t even think she is still completely awake - and I take advantage of that.

"Anastasia. Sleep. Now."

Good.

She responds immediately to that softer brand of my Dom´s voice and falls asleep again almost instantly. I soon follow, forgetting all about the Seattle weather and subspaces for the time being.

Here we are now, a couple of hours later. Same space, different time. Skies still look angry outside, although it is not raining so heavily now. I am fully awake and alert again. The feeling lingers, we are still here, where no one can ever intrude. I won´t allow it. I decide that I will not leave this bed today so soon. I will need a very good reason to convince me.

She is still asleep, all wrapped around me, she hasn´t moved a muscle since that _subspace_ comment of hers. I don´t have the heart to wake her up, even though we are supposed to meet Kate and Elliot for lunch in a couple of hours or so. No, I think I´ll let that pass, I am going call them and cancel, the lousy weather making a near perfect excuse. I am certain that this time Ana won´t not frown upon the idea.

Since we´ve been trying renegotiated the basis of our contract things have become more _intense_ , if that´s even possible. Anastasia´s complete trust is a priceless gift to me, and but I´m still testing her boundaries, pushing her limits. The old fear is still there, just beneath the surface - that the day would come when she will leave me again because I pushed her too far, because she might conclude that I am unworthy of her. However, fear is a feeling that has been a companion to me throughout most of my whole, fucked up life, and learning to live without it is proving harder than I what originally thought. Ana leaving me became another item to be added to the list of my recurring nightmares. What would Flynn say about that one? Our appointment next week should be interesting.

Only last Friday, however, Anastasia gifted me with something as close as a _carte blanche_ as I could ever wish for. She told me candidly, but in very explicit terms during dinner that she was ready for me to _test her limits_. She nearly made me choke on my wine. I was baffled. Awestruck. I don´t remember being hit by that feeling in my gut ever since she told me she was a virgin.

" _Say that again?_ _"_

" _I_ _´ll try everything. Once._ "

She was blushing when she said it - a very nice touch. I don´t think I would never run out of ways to make her blush, and I found that endearing, and highly stimulating to a man of my preferences.

" _Everything?_ " I raised an eyebrow. _"Now that is a very dangerous thing to say to a Dom, Miss Steele,"_ I retorted, recovering myself. " _You should never_ ever _do that._ "

" _I know. I think I like living dangerously after all, Mr. Grey._ _"_

Her blush only deepened.

My brave, brave Anastasia.

I wondered if in any of the fantasies she might have had with her literary heroes and villains, including the infamous Alex D´Uberville, ever compared to the reality I´ve shown her since the first day I brought her here to my penthouse. No whips and chains were involved in Tess Durbeyfield´s debasement. And yet, what I´ve shown her was nothing, only glimpses of the monster lurking just beneath the surface. One of those encounters with my demons had made her run, but now she is back. She swears she is not leaving me again, she says she is staying. But for how long?

" _I_ _´m trying to say that I´m not afraid anymore, Christian. That doesn´t mean I´ll be able to deal with_ everything _you_ _´ll throw at me. You´ll have to help me, you´ll have to work very hard to convince me. I can´t give you any limits because it´s all fuzzy now, I no longer know what they are. But you´ll probably need all of your infamous boardroom negotiation tactics. Not to mention your dark powers of persuasion._ "

 _Dark powers of persuasion?_

Things were definitely improving!

" _I love you. But the thing is that you took me there with you, to the edge of that dark world of yours. You tempt me, and I_ _… and I…"_ She cleared her throat. _"I am drawn to it. I am not saying I want to jump, but at least I want to… wet my toes a little bit."_

The final admission came in a voice so weak that I could barely hear her.

 _"Can we do that? I´m so… Gosh, I never thought I would… This is so embarrassing!"_

 _"It´s OK! It´s only us, Anastasia, and what we both agree to do together respecting our limits should not be measured against anyone else´s standards. It´s us."_

 _"I don´t know, it is all so confusing. I want to understand it, Christian, I really, really do, but I… I can reach it. But I trust you implicitly, I trust you with my life. I_ know _you won_ _´t push me farther than I can go. I know you would rather die than do that. I know it because it´s the same for me. So, if I love your hands on me, if I love that… that freaking flogger, then why wouldn´t I… at least… try some of the other things because… it would be you. Only you._ D _oes it make any sense? At all?_ _"_

And so, for the past few days I´ve been working very, very hard on… convincing her. In and out of the bedroom, or the playroom. Basically in every surface of the penthouse where I could have her. Needless to say, the whole process had been very intense so far, my poor Ana certainly needs the rest.

As for me, I still feel restless, like I am sailing on uncharted waters. It´s a feeling that I am not very comfortable with. Anastasia was never easy to read, even for me, a master in reading people and their body language. She was a challenge from day one. I think she is still in the middle of some kind of learning process I cannot understand, since my own sexual initiation was completely twisted and outside every possible norm. To put it simply, I - fifty shades fucked up as I am - was not exactly the right kind of man for a girl to start exploring her sexuality with. Sometimes I thought that I had been wrong in taking matters in my own hands that night in my penthouse, _solving the situation_ , as I put it ironically back them. I should have let her go to another man who would initiate her gently, in a more conventional setting, but the very idea made me cringe and filled me with such cold fury that in the end I did the only thing a self-respecting dominant would do in a similar situation.

The point is that, from the beginning, I had failed to realize so many things about her, things that today seem so obvious to me.

Little things.

For instance, she was - she _is_ too caught up on semantics. I realized that she is more fearful of the words than of the reality behind them. She is, in a way, a delightful mass of contradictions, and those different aspects of her personality are often in conflict, always clashing, and it shows. And so, she rebels now and then, she purposely defies and provokes me - but lately, as crazy as it may seem after all that we´ve been through together, she seems more disappointed when I don´t punish her than afraid that I actually will. I know she still struggles with the idea of pain. She enjoys it up to some degree, but part of her still thinks it is wrong to feel that way, and she doesn´t yet understand the need and the pleasure anyone can feel by inflicting it – me, in particular.

A hell of a conflict!

I suggested a few appointments with Dr. Flynn, but she rolled her eyes at the idea - duly noted, palms twitching, I´m still waiting for a proper opportunity to make her pay for that one.

She is still resting now, her head in my chest, legs entwined with mine. I feel the soft flutter of her eyelashes against my chest, in that zone forbidden for every other human being - except her. Her right hand rests against my left hip. I grab it and place it where it rightfully belongs, above my heart. The weight of her hand is, at the same time, comforting and disturbing.

I take a deep breath. She stirs, but does not wake up. Instead, she mumbles something about… _cats_.

I frown.

I am about to make a mental note to ask her what the hell we could be doing with cats in the penthouse, but when she whispers something about canes being my weapon of choice I know she means a completely different kind of cat.

 _A cat o´nine tails…_

I smile.

Now this poses some very intriguing possibilities.

The fact is that Anastasia Steele too is having some very interesting recurring dreams lately. She won´t tell me about them, no matter how much I tried to coax it out of her, but the bits and pieces she mumbles in her sleep are… interesting. Canes, cats o´nine tails and whips. Clamps of every kind. Ropes. Hot wax? I wonder which ones of my dark powers of persuasion - as she calls them nowadays - I would use to convince her to tell me exactly what those forbidden fantasies of hers are.

My thoughts take a dangerous turn. I am now painfully hard, and Anastasia is still Sleeping Beauty wrapped around me. I have no heart to wake her just yet, I decide to control myself and allow her a few more moments of rest. I turn on the large screen TV. There is a music video playing, and I try to focus my attention on it.

It proves not to be such a good idea after all.

A favorite of Anastasia, and I ask myself if she had ever actually seen the video clip, loaded with BDSM elements. No, I don´t think she has, she would tell me about it, for sure. The Weeknd´s _Earned It_. I look at the line of subs in black leather and latex. A pity Ana probably wouldn´t be caught dead in one of those outfits, I chuckle.

"No," she says, as if reading my mind. She is staring at the big screen, her eyes wide open.

 _Titania awakes,_ I smile. Good.

"No?"

"No. Hard limit," she yawns. "Incidentally, that´s very unattractive, if you ask me."

"Depends on the point of view."

"No, it doesn´t."

"Are you sure?"

"Christian," her voice, still heavy from sleep, is adorable. "if you come anywhere near my butt with a roll of black tape, I swear I´ll…" she stops suddenly. "Oooh…"

The beautiful brunette model appears, descending from above, artfully suspended by ropes. Anastasia simply stops breathing.

"Wow," she says.

Actually, I think I stop breathing too. Long, flowing brown hair. The model could very well be Ana.

 _Fuck!_

"Wow," she repeats, letting out a huge breath.

"Anastasia?"

"Uhm...?"

Well, I admit, I was disappointed when she struck out suspension from that infamous contract of ours. It was one of the things I was really good at.

Better than good.

I remember that as soon as I bought my first company jet, on a whim, I decided to travel to Japan for few days, to learn more about the proper technique of _shibari_ \- Japanese rope bondage. An art form, not very easy to learn, not because the technique is impossibly complicated, but because there are few who are willing to share their knowledge. The reason is simple and understandable: there are very serious safety issues involved, so there is no room for amateur practitioners or wannabe Doms in seedy BDSM clubs trying their hand at it. However, after some extensive research I discovered this little Japanese _nawashi_ \- a rope master - who would take a disciple from time to time. The best in the world, and I always aimed for the best - I still do. I offered to send the jet to bring him to me, but the diminutive old man was practically a hermit and refused to leave his village.

So, I went to him.

My staff probably thought it was just another one of my therapies - like I said, I only tell them what they need to know. Ana would say it was a sad misuse of company property. But, no matter how inappropriate by some standards, it was totally worth it. He refused at first, as I expected. In the end I discovered that money meant little or nothing to him, but what he could not resist was an unlimited supply of his favorite _sake_ and an endless supply of the natural-fiber rope that is traditionally employed in shibari. To this day I have to keep myself from laughing whenever my parents ask me how I managed to learn to speak some Japanese so fast. If they only knew! _All it takes is the right incentive -_ is my usual standard answer.

My newly awakened beauty stirs again, she raises her head slightly, and her eyes squint, trying to take a better look at the TV screen.

"Mmmm…"

"One or two more vowels and consonants could be useful, you know," I tease. "I need to know what you are thinking. Right now."

But Ana still struggles with the words.

"That girl. Is… is she… Wow. Is that…?"

"That is the fine art of _shibari_."

"What?"

"Rope bondage."

"Oh."

"A pity suspension a hard limit for you, remember? You struck it out." I say, although I doubt that it is still the case. Like the clamps and a few other things, she is more scared by the words than by what they actually mean. And now that she is having a little sample - although a very glamorized version - she appears to be… mesmerized.

"What? No. I mean yes. Hard limit… Mmmmm… But… Oh… Wow." She says finally. She looks adorably disgruntled.

I pause, freezing the screen with the image with the beautiful brunette in bondage against a fake night sky and a glittering crystal chandelier.

"Miss Steele, what am I going to do with you?" I smirk, tightening my hold on her.

"Whatever you wish, Mr. Grey," she fires back at me, her voice unusually docile. "Whatever your heart desires."

 _Was she serious?_

"Careful," I warned her, sternly.

 _Don´t do that to me!_

Another giggle is her only reply, as she lets her head fall back in the pillow. Her legs tighten around my right thigh. I feel it then, on my skin. Is she…? She is. I would have to do something about that very soon, of course. But not yet. Our little talk is taking an interesting turn, and the man of business that I am cannot miss that precious and rare opportunity. Hadn´t she said that I would need all my best boardroom tactics and dark powers of persuasion to break through her defenses? Well, Miss Steele, time to put that into practice.

Boardroom tactics and dark powers of persuasion…

And so it begins!

Oh wait.

"Where are you going?" I ask, tightening my hold on her, when she tries to escape me.

"I need to… you know." She points to the bathroom.

While she is gone, I look critically at the suspended submissive. I count one, two… seven suspension points, the first and most important one located on her center of gravity, around her belly button, then around her hands, breasts, hips, knees and the left foot. I am already thinking that with Anastasia I would use an extra one. I would also add a few extra knots to stimulate a few points where I knew she was particularly sensitive. The girl´s right foot was hanging loose, possibly because of some desired kind of artistic effect.

I didn´t like it.

No, I wouldn´t have that, I didn´t need that. Symmetry in this kind of rope work makes it safer. Asymmetry, on the other hand, is often used to cause discomfort and pain, and although that used to be interesting with my former submissives, it wasn´t the case with Ana. I noticed that her hands were tied in front - that I liked. In the past I preferred to tie my subs with hands on their back, but I noticed that is made Ana slightly uncomfortable at times. If we really did this I had to remove every possible source of discomfort to her. Finally, the girl was wearing some kind of body suit that gave the initial impression that she was naked. Well, no body suit would be needed for my beautiful Ana - the trouble would be to convince her to agree to that.

She returns only a moment later and catches me still staring fixedly at the girl on the screen.

"Stop gawking at her," she exclaims. She was frowning, her voice was serious. Miss Steele is hardly immune to the little green monster. She tries to slap my arm playfully, but I grab her hand before she succeeds and pull her to me.

"And close your mouth, Christian," she taps my chin lightly.

"I was studying the technique," I say emphatically.

Seriously, I was!

"Technique my _ass_."

Speaking of which, I slap hers, playfully.

"Ouch! What the…?"

"Foul mouthed so early in the morning, Miss Steele? What has gotten into you today? Come here," I arrange her until she is wrapped around my body again, just like before. I place her hand in my chest and hold it there.

"Don´t move." I say. "What are you thinking? Tell me. I need to know."

"It´s not _really_ like that, is it?" she is looking fixedly at the screen again. "I mean…"

"When it is properly done, yes, it´s pretty close to that," I say. "Although I would make one or two changes."

"I would be surprised if you wouldn´t!"

"It takes a lot of skill and training to do something like that. It can be dangerous, even deadly if done wrong, but it´s considered as close to art form as a bondage technique can get. That -" I point to the screen - "That is exceptional good work. It must have taken hours to tie her up properly. See how perfectly stable she is, no sign of pain or distress in her face?"

"She could be just acting," she suggests.

"If there was any discomfort it would show. She would be twitching all over the place, I doubt they would even be able to film it. It´s not easy to work against gravity."

"If it takes hours… It´s a matter of delayed gratification, then."

"Yes, it is more about the journey than the destination. A point well made, as usual, Miss Steele."

"And you have both, of course. I mean, the skill and the training?"

"You know I do. I learned from the best."

"Of course you did." She sighs. "Did you learn that from Mrs. Robinson?"

That was unexpected. I cringed.

"No, not Elena, it wasn´t her style. Far from it. I went to Japan once, for two weeks, to learn from one of the rope masters. I return every year whenever possible, to learn more and perfect my technique. I hurt a sub once using a rope, and it was a mistake I wasn´t willing to repeat, ever again."

She raises her head and frowns at me.

"Seriously? You let another big bad Dom do _that_ to you?"

I laugh at the absurdity of her idea.

"No, but I usually watch as the _nawashi_ \- that is how the rope master is called - demonstrates the proper technique. A model or one of his subs usually volunteers."

"I´m sure they do…" she whispers, almost distractedly, her eyes wide.

"Next time I´ll take you with me - if you want." I suggested.

No, Grey. Too soon. Give her time to get used to the idea.

"Mmm," she didn´t answer. "The girl. She does look… peaceful, almost."

"That is because, she might be in one of the early levels of subspace. Shibari, when rightfully done, is one of the best techniques to induce it. As I said, I doubt she is acting there."

" _Subspace_ …"

"Yeah."

"Why do I have a feeling that it has nothing to do with science fiction?" her frown deepens.

"Because in my world it doesn´t. You don't remember from your extensive research when I gave you the contract?"

"You mean BDSM 101?"

 _That smart mouth of hers_ _…_

"I don't think Wikipedia covered the topic when I did my research. And I don't think you ever supplied me with a proper definition either, _master_."

"I love it when you call me that. You know what it does to me."

I decide not to play fair as I gift her with my best Dom´s stare. She instantly responds to it - her pupils dilate, her breathing increases.

 _Not a sub my ass,_ the little devil still living inside my head whispers.

 _Shut up!_

"I know." Then, her eyes roll, when a thought occurs to her. "But if you get carried away and start calling me _pet_ I won´t…"

"Tell me then," I interrupt her little outburst - I would deal with that one later. "Would you like a proper semantic clarification of the meaning of _subspace_ or would you prefer my own, twisted and fucked up version of the term?

"I'll always take you own words, as fucked up and twisted as they might be, Mr. Grey. Please."

"I'm surprised, considering your unusual obsession with semantics."

"Just tell me, Christian."

"When you are in the playroom with you Dom…"

"You mean _you_?"

 _What?_

"He better be me, Anastasia."

She giggles. "I´m teasing you, Christian!"

The Dom stare is back in full mode, and the smile freezes in her lovely lips. She bites them, hard.

It´s time I begin my counting.

 _Strike one._

"Yes, sir," she murmurs shyly, but that mischievous glint in her eyes.

I begin speaking, in a commanding tone that defies any further interruptions.

"Imagine that you are in bondage, completely restrained. Perhaps your eyes are covered, perhaps you're gagged. Or both."

"No gagging. I don´t think I like that very much."

"Fine. Your eyes are covered. You trust your dominant with your life, so you just… let yourself go. You relinquish control, completely. You give yourself to him, you revel in what he does to you. You crave his darkness, you live and breathe for it. Pleasure, pain, fear, shame, it doesn't matter, as one becomes the other. Safe words lose their meaning, soft, hard limits, all gone. You just feel. You _fly_. It's like a trance, better than any drug ever invented by man. Not every submissive is lucky enough to experience this, not every Dom is skilled enough to provoke it. Or responsible enough, because it is a state where the submissive is completely vulnerable, extremely vulnerable, and might not might not be able to safe word, for example. It requires extreme, blind trust…"

Silence reign for a few seconds, while she seems to be absorbing my words, going to a place inside her beautiful mind that only belongs to her, where I can´t reach her. It´s an idea I love and hate at the same time.

"Wow. I like your fucked up definition, Mr. Grey. I like it a lot," she says finally.

"We aim to please, Miss Steele. Always. Of course in medical terms it´s nothing but an endorphin shock."

"Not fun at all, I still pick yours. Where did you get I that? Wikipedia?"

"Nope. BDSMwiki."

She laughs.

"Unbelievable. Is there such a thing?"

"Oh yes. Very complete and extremely accurate. You´d be surprised."

"Nothing about this dark world of yours surprises me by now. Your knowledge of it baffles me. You should write a book one of these days."

"Perhaps I will. You could help me," I tease her.

"Naah, mine would have a different title. I was thinking "Ana´s Comprehensive Guide for Beginner Submissives""

"Mmm… you might have something there, Miss Steele."

"Have you ever been to subspace?" I should know that this question would come sooner or later. "With _her_?"

 _Mrs Robinson. Elena._

"Always so eager for information, aren´t you, Miss Steele?"

"You don´t have to…"

"No, I can't say that I have," I interrupt. No hiding from her anymore, not if I could help it. "Maybe I was close once or twice, but I never fully trusted her. Full and complete trust is essential."

"Tell me." She seems surprised.

"There are hard limits and _hard limits_ , Anastasia. Different levels of it. You can push some of them, but some are simply... insurmountable. She made the mistake of pushing through one of mine early on and I never fully trusted her again."

"She tried to touch you," she guesses, horrified, now that she fully comprehends what it means. Her hand in my chest twitches, I cover it with mine and hold it firmly because I don´t want her to remove it.

Not now.

I need it there, because in moments like these, I never know how far she will probe, how far she will take me, the little secrets I´ll have to reveal to her. It´s when tables are turned, and she starts pushing my limits, instead of me pushing hers. It´s still a feeling I am trying to get used to.

I swallow and decide to continue. She is my lifeline, she deserves to know. Everything. The trick is that I never know how much I will be able to tell her.

"She did a lot more than just _try_. The first time we were together, she..."

"You don´t have to tell me. Oh my God, Christian!"

"She didn't _know,_ OK?"

"And you still defend her?" she is angry now, her whole body around me tenses. The mere mention of Elena´s name did that to her - but she was the one who started it this time.

"She didn´t _know_ ," I repeat, more emphatically.

"Are you freaking kidding me?"

Yes, she is mad.

"She _knew_ , Christian. She knew. You told me she knew you since you were eight, how could she not?"

"That is not the point," I interrupt her briskly - I didn´t want to go there, not now. "The point is that it didn't stop me from agreeing to become her submissive, even though she never had my full and complete trust again."

"I bet she did not like that. Not one bit," she remarked acidly.

"She didn´t, and she knew how to use it against me. I never knew when she would… _strike._ I never knew. It kept me on edge all the time, and she used that shit against me. Sometimes it made me hold back, and that infuriated her, and she would became… vicious. She would beat the crap out of me when she was in that mood."

"Did she touch you again after that first time? Did she try?"

I breathe.

"Christian!"

"No, she did not quite touch me, ever again, but she... She did something else."

Words catch in my throat. I try another approach, an easier way to say it even if I knew there was none.

"The last time I subbed for her, she…"

 _No. Never again._

"It´s all right, that´s enough… You don´t have to…"

"Yes, I do!" I nearly shout, and she jumps.

 _You took me this far, Anastasia, now deal with it,_ I wanted to yell at her, but somehow I controlled that urge.

I felt it all resurfacing again, uncontrollable thoughts too dark for me to linger upon. One fist clenches, the other, still holding her hand to me, tightens on her wrist. I can´t breathe all of a sudden. I hold her against me, firmly, desperately. It vaguely occurs to me that I might be hurting her, but I am still unable to let go. I don´t want her to see me like this. Not now. Not ever again. If she only knew what I am capable of doing to her when I am like this, the very depths of my depravity, she…

The thought brings me back to the present, but instead of more panic, it brings me control, which I exert by letting her go. That is one a hell of a paradox! Flynn would have a field day with it.

I slacken my hold on her wrist. She relaxes.

And stays.

Thank heavens for small miracles!

"I´m sorry. Did I hurt you?" I ask, gruffly, rubbing her wrist.

"No, I´m fine." Her voice is weak. I chastise myself for scaring her to death again. "You didn´t hurt me, Christian. I´m OK."

"Sure?"

"Yes." She reassures me by kissing an interesting little spot she discovered, under my chin. I take a large, calming breath.

"She poured hot wax on my chest," I let the words flow like an avalanche, faster than I could control. It was the only way I could tell it to her.

She is quiet after that. Too quiet.

One minute, two.

She doesn´t flinch, doesn´t move. I can´t tell what she is feeling, what she is thinking. It is unsettling, I don´t like it. I hate it. Because I know her mind a little bit right now. She has to be disgusted, horrified.

"Ana? Still with me?"

"Yes. Is that why you switched and became a Dom?" she asks, carefully, her voice still shaking. "Was that the trigger?"

Where had she picked up that word? Flynn maybe? I close my eyes.

 _I remember then_ _…_

 _Lying down on the cold marble floor of her playroom, Elena Lincoln on top of me, the cruelest expression I_ _´ve ever seen on her face. I´d been making too many decisions regarding my own life lately and she didn´t like my newly discovered independence. Leaving Harvard. Wanting to start my own business. She was losing control over me, and she was trying hard to regain it in the playroom._

 _My hands were tied with my own tee-shirt, she told me too keep them above my head._

 _Hot wax slowly dripped on my chest._

 _Hot wax._

 _She could have poured it anywhere else but not there._

 _Not. On. My. Chest._

 _It_ hurt. _A pain that went beyond the physical, a pain only I knew how to describe._

 _I couldn_ _´t breathe, I couldn´t… Not even to say the fucking safe word. Then I realized that my hands were lose because I had fought so hard when I saw what she was going to do that the knots came lose. She hadn´t realized it - no, knot tying was definitely not her area of expertise. I acted before I could think. I reversed our positions - I was on top, holding her hands above her head._

 _Never again._

 _There was this huge rush of adrenaline, something I had never felt before, and I was so fast I tied her hands with that same tee-shirt before she could blink twice. The look of surprise in her face is something I_ _´ll never forget._

 _Surprise… and fear. Of me._

 _Never again, I repeated to myself._

 _She struggled against the knots, unsuccessfully. I smile wickedly, then I proceeded to give her a healthy dose of her own medicine_ _…_

 _That was the day Christian the submissive was dead and buried and Master Grey was born._

However, I am not ready to tell Ana any of that, not just yet.

"Yes," I admit. "It was the trigger. But not the only one. It´s more complex than that, I´m afraid, as any of my charlatan therapists would gladly explain to you."

"Tell me something else, then."

"Yes?"

I am tense. What now? I don´t think I can take any more of this today.

"I kind of feel that every time you take me to your playroom. The subspace thing. It´s like a trance."

" _Kind of_?"

"You´re good!"

I smile smugly.

Yes, I am.

And to have a reluctant submissive like Anastasia admit that is music to my ears.

"The first time you took me there I was too overwhelmed, but when you played the Thomas Tallis music..." she continues.

"Yes," I breathe in relief.

"Why didn't you tell me then? About the _subspace_ thing."

"Because things were just too fragile between us then, it was all so new. You were still practically an innocent, it was only your second or third time in the playroom. If I told you that I could take you to a stage where you probably wouldn´t be able to use the safe words… You would freak out."

She winces.

"Does that mean I'm a submissive after all?"

Her voice sounds… defeated. That I don´t like.

"I don´t know, maybe you are, but only in bed with me, Anastasia. Nothing wrong with that. I told you before, it doesn´t mean you are meek, it doesn´t mean you are a push over or that you lack personality. It means only that in a very restricted area of your life you tend to relinquish control to me, that is all. Other than that - you are a force of nature. Uncontrollable. Fiercely independent. It drives me mad. You know that, don´t you?"

"Look who's talking." She rolls her eyes at me. Again. "Uncontrollable force of nature my a… my behind!"

 _Strike two, Miss Steele. Duly noted._

"Is there such a thing as a _domspace_?" she asked.

"Now that is a very scientific question. That´s highly debatable. But if there is, I may have found it with you." I slap her butt to make my point.

"Ouch! I´d like to try that."

I decide to misunderstand her on purpose, only to push her a little bit.

"Domspace? Slapping my butt? In your dreams, baby."

"Christian!"

She is such a joy to tease.

"Anastasia, you go to your subspace whenever we are in the playroom. You go there every time we fuck, make love, have sex, no matter how we decide to call it. And I am there with you. That is a fact. You only didn´t know there was a name for it."

And then she reminds me that she is always full of surprises.

"All right, I get the subspace thing, but I meant I´d like to try the ropes. Suspension. Shibari. Whatever the name is, I´d like to try that."

"Are you sure? Don´t mess with me about this Ana. Just don´t."

The lip biting is back.

 _Strike three._

"Yes, I´m sure. But I don´t want to go to Japan to be tied up by a _wishywashy_ master…

" _Nawashi_ _…"_ I correct, but she ignores me.

"… but I want to be that girl over there. With you."

"Ana…"

"Yes. Please."

"OK."

I am deceptively quiet, but my mind is at warp speed.

 _Oh, the possibilities!_

Mentally I am already calculating how many yards of rope I would need, and I realize I don´t have enough in the playroom. I haven't done that kind of extensive rope work in a while. That means we would have to go shopping.

And I knew just the place.

It would be... fun!


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all for your reviews. They mean a lot to me, especially because it took me a little bit of extra courage to finally publish this. I am happy to tell you that the story is nearly finished, eight chapters in all, and you'll have a new one each week.**

 **A very, very special thanks to augiesannie, not only fr your wonderful reviews, but also because if not for your incentive, I would not have returned to this exciting world of fan fiction writing after so many years! Thank you so much!**

UndercoverSquint **, I am not in the lifestyle. I simply followed Christian Grey's advice and took my internet research very seriously, in order to treat it with respect and be as accurate as possible. I am glad I seem to have achieved that goal, at least in that first chapter. Thank you for your comment!**

 **The usual disclaimers apply. I do not own the Fifty Shades trilogy, nor the characters, they all belong to E.L. James. I'm just playing with their minds a little bit.**

 **Happy reading! See you in a week or so with another chapter or maybe even sooner!**

 **Chapter 02**

" _ **I need some distraction**_

 _ **Oh, beautiful release**_

 _ **Memories seep from my veins…"**_

 _ **Angel, Sarah McLachlan**_

I make a mental note to ask Ross to find out when The Weekend will be on tour. I need her to book tickets and make arrangements for a backstage pass for a concert in Seattle or anywhere else in the West Coast. Or the East Coast. The Midwest. Timbuktu. Shanghai. Cairo. Rio de Janeiro.

 _Anywhere_.

I just have to thank that guy personally. I have to shake his hand.

Genius, pure genius!

Yes, in case anyone is wondering, I am still with my head in the clouds after Anastasia agreed to try a little suspension and rope bondage - although frankly what I have in mind is much _more_ than a little. I can´t help but wonder how far she will let me take her with it.

I cannot stop thinking about it, I can´t stop myself from choreographing the entire scene I have in mind. Planning every detail in advance is something I always like to do. It is in my nature, all a part of my control issues, and I don't even need Flynn to tell me that. It is nice to do it again, and this time _for her._ That makes all the difference, although, as usual, with Anastasia, I should always _expect the unexpected_ – from me and from her. I never know when I will overstep the boundaries and frighten her risking to lose her entirely, or when she, on the other hand, will demand more than it is safe for me to give her.

And she´d been doing a lot of that lately!

Only a few hours ago, I had to make use of all my diplomatic skills to avoid that lunch date with Kate and Elliot, but they will be coming to the Escala for drinks later.

As a matter of fact, they should be here at any moment now…

Anastasia and I reached a compromise about our little social meeting today. We both agreed that it would be good for us to have some kind of contact with other life human forms before we start our week tomorrow. It might be a good idea to return to real life slowly, step by step. Two crucially important boardroom meetings and a lunch engagement await me in Portland tomorrow, and the start of my week will be _tense,_ to say the least. Nothing that I can´t handle to my advantage, nothing that I can't control with both hands tied behind my back, no pun intended, but the stress is always there. It´s inevitable. It´s part of my job.

However, there are always interesting manners to alleviate that…

No, it is not what one might think. There is _that_ , of course, to lose myself in her body, but there is the whole build up in preparation for the event that will be our – mine and Ana´s - reward after what will be a stressful week at work for both of us.

I´ve always thought that there is no point in staging a complicated BDSM scene if you don´t enjoy every single aspect of it…

Down to the minimum detail…

"Take the day off tomorrow, Anastasia. Come to Portland with me," I say absent-mindedly while I tie my sneakers.

I look up at her, and there it is - she is frowning.

 _Oh shit_ , this is _not_ good.

That domineering tone is second nature to me, I can´t help it, I usually can´t tone it down even if I want to, but sometimes she reacts badly to it, her temper flares.

 _Like now._

She doesn´t say a word, and marches into the closet, her back ramrod straight and her head held high, disappearing from my view, her long chestnut hair flowing down her back. Barefoot, she is wearing her favorite outfit for home - yoga pants and one of my shirts.

She looks like an offended queen.

 _Fuck, I´m in trouble!_

Mentally, I picture her there inside the closet, going through her whole _fifty shades_ routine – pacing, shifting her weight from one foot to another, not to mention the eye rolling, lip biting, counting up to ten before exploding…

I love that!

Seconds later, she reappears. Regal, all _Miss High and Mighty_ , feigning indifference, except for the two bright spots on her cheeks and her sparkling blue eyes, betraying her inner turmoil. As for me, all I wanted to do is to grab her, throw her back in the bed, spank her pert little ass until it´s pink and… you know the rest.

 _Is she_ glaring _at me now?_

I do infuriate her, don´t I?

Of course I do!

I smile. I made no attempt to hide the fact that I am deeply amused.

She clears her throat.

 _Here it comes…_

"I can´t just _take tomorrow off_ on a whim, Christian Grey. I´m not a business tycoon," she bursts. "I have a job to keep and bills to pay."

 _Mental note: Find a way to take care of her fucking college loan of hers without risking my own neck in the process._ She really doesn´t need to stress about things like that anymore.

Impatiently, she looks around for her shoes, plain white slippers.

"Right there, under the bed," I point to her. "You know, if it is only a matter of keeping your job, I could just call it an order from your boss´s boss´s boss…"

"You know, that is not even funny right now…" she explodes, stomping her foot on the ground.

The trauma of Jack Hyde´s assault is still a fresh wound for both of us, and I curse myself for being so careless with my words again. I shake my head at my own stupidity.

"Sorry, that was a rotten thing to say, Ana."

"It was!"

"I apologize."

"I accept your apology, but I am still not going to Portland with you. Seriously. I´d love to, but can´t, Christian. Sorry…"

 _How can I explain? How can I…_

No, I can´t. I look upwards, as if waiting for an answer to pop miraculous inside my overworked brain.

There is always the usual reason. It´s always there, I can´t help it. It´s _me_. I lost so much in life, if I lose her too I will never be able to function again. I´ll cease to exist. I _know_ that, but does she know it too? The selfish, fucked up bastard of a control freak that I am still needs her with me all the time, because I need to know that she is _safe,_ that she is eating properly, that no one is taking advantage of her…

Yes, I am no fool, I am now fully aware that no woman, no human being, can stand that kind of thing. It must be suffocating, it even sounds that way. The possible exceptions to the rule are those poor broken souls I once chose to be my subs. And, naturally, the soulless creature that I was when I was fifteen and Elena Lincoln seduced me so easily. Nonetheless, I am not that boy anymore, and Anastasia Steele belongs to another universe entirely, at least compared to that where my women came from.

But it is not the case today. At least I want to take her with me tomorrow because of another reason as well. It´s not a matter of being protective and/or controlling this time. Call it a whim, a dominant´s privilege, whatever you like. I want her there, in that particular place, with me to buy all those yards of the rope of my choice. It is a part of the scene I have in mind, part of my fantasy.

My carefully designed scene. That " _journey being more important than the destination_ " shit. Rope bondage was never like that for me before, as usual it was its darkest aspect that I found appealing.

N o, not the journey. For me, _the destination was always in the journey itself_. There was never any significant difference, none at all. My sadist self would enjoy the use of coarse ropes, tight knots placed strategically in order to maximize the pain and not necessarily the pleasure, not to mention clamps and other little trinkets I would use to torment my sub while I worked. Yes, it will require a great deal of restraint for me to keep my darkest urges in control with Anastasia in such a scene – I admit that. On the other hand, who knows, maybe with her I will finally be able to experience the more elegant aspects of _shibari_ that the good old _nawashi_ was always lecturing me about, and not only the torture and the pain.

 _Delayed gratification._

I never thought I could enjoy it so much.

Yes, I know Ana must have some space, she needs time of her own to recharge. I´ll give it to her - just _not tomorrow_. I can understand that need, I can relate to it, but living with it a daily basis is a struggle, a learning process.

Achieving a balance between her needs and my own is no easy task.

 _What am I supposed to do?_

I´m so used to my old patterns of behavior, my old ways that I… forget myself from time to time. In fact I just did. Sometimes - like now, it is easy to go back and fix it, sometimes it´s impossible, then it´s all a matter of damage control.

All I can do is damn well try. And keep trying.

Again and again.

She deserves it.

I have to reach a compromise about this, even if it kills me.

"All right, then I´ll just ask you nicely this time. Anastasia Steele, would you accompany me to Portland tomorrow? Please?" I plead, changing my tactics. I look at her in a way I know that makes her melt inside.

Her reaction in immediate.

"Oh crap!" she exclaims.

There it is, that telltale flush, the skin of her face and neck turning a lovely shade of pink. She is no longer frowning, but she is avoiding her eyes. She shuts them firmly, as if to keep herself from her old habit of rolling them. Or not looking at me. Or both.

"Don't do that!" she says pointedly.

"Don´t do what?" I ask, feigning innocence.

"I know what you are doing," she points a finger on me, finally meeting my gaze again, but only for a moment. "It´s your lost look right there. I know you know what it does to me."

 _Yes_! For a moment I forgot how well she could read me when she really applied herself to it. Better that I was ever able to read her, at least.

"… Though it's not worse than the mean domineering scowl. God knows what that one makes me burn, don't get me started on that, I won't even... Oh no, please tell me I haven't said all that out loud!"

"You did."

She curses again.

 _Foul mouthed Miss Steele… What can I do with you?_

I decide to save that last bit of new information for future reference and not pester her about it right now. Meanwhile, I will still cling to my innocent act.

"Tell me then, what exactly am I doing to you, Anastasia?"

This time she can´t help herself – there it is, that infernal eye rolling again.

"You know, men like you should come with a warning label. Exposure may cause sudden attacks of… of… You know what."

 _Yes. I know._

"You drive me crazy, Mr. Grey. In more ways than one."

"In my own defense, I tried to warn you before we got together, didn´t I?" I said teasingly. "Several times, in fact."

She sighs.

"A quote from Thomas Hardy was not a very effective warning to me of all people, Christian. That was your sneaky way of tempting me. You know, part of the whole…" she gestures, "… debasement process."

I smile tenderly at her. Yes, I know that too. She even told me once that she often fantasized about rewriting Tess of the D´Ubervilles in a way that Alec was redeemed in the end and got the girl. Laughing at the absurdity of her idea at the time – she called it _fan fiction -_ , but it told me a little more about the mystery that was Anastasia Rose Steele.

"Now I know that, but then I didn´t." I tell her.

I take both of her hands.

"Ana, please. Portland? I´m only asking."

She still looks at me skeptically.

"You mean you won´t unleash your mighty CEO powers on me, oh master of the universe?" She narrows her eyes, her voice is still loaded with sarcasm, but the humor is enough indication that she is softening towards the idea.

"No, I fucking won´t, Anastasia."

She tilts her head to one side, a clear signal she is about to provoke me again.

"You´re sure? You could just call it due diligence, Mr. Grey?" Her eyes glint with mischief.

"Well observed as usual, Miss Steele." I straighten. "Speaking about giving in to temptation…" I pull her to my lap, sitting her sideways. I take her by surprise, and she lets out a little yelp.

And winces.

I wince too. After all we had done since Friday…

"What is it? Are you sore, baby?" I ask.

"Christian!"

"What?"

"Why do you have to ask me things like that?" She sounds more than a little mortified, though not angry at me anymore. That was good.

"Because I must. Call it a part of my job."

"As my _dominant_?"

 _Dangerous grounds…_

"As your lover, first and foremost."

The human body holds no mystery to me as far as sexual acts are concerned. What I didn't learn from my own experiences, I researched and read whenever it was necessary. I still do. There is nothing about it that embarrasses or repulses me. Yet, sometimes I forgot how the experience of sharing her body with another human being was new to Anastasia.

"Are you OK?" I insist.

"I´ll be fine, it´s not all your fault, you know." A bright flush starts creeping up her neck. "And it´s nothing that I haven´t dealt with… with you before."

"We talked about this, you have to be honest and open about such things."

"OK, I´m more than a little… tender."

"I´ll fix it later." I kiss the tip of her nose.

"You'll _fix_ it?" She seems completely baffled. " _How_?!"

It´s called _aftercare_ in my world. Like many other things, it is so much _more_ with Ana. With the other subs, it was always nothing more than an obligation to be fulfilled by me as their dominant, almost an unwritten part of the contract.

But it is _too personal…_

I think the subs sensed my reluctance, at least some of them did, because I noticed that they ended up taking care of themselves after a while, unless, of course, they needed my help. God knows Elena never bothered with whatever damage she inflicted on my body after she was done with me. I was never good at this aftercare business before, I did it when I had to, because it was all part of what was expected of me, but it was probably the one aspect of in a D/s relationship that made me uncomfortable - it was when there was the risk of getting too close to them.

As I said: _too_ _damned_ _personal_.

With Anastasia, it is not this fear of too much closeness that is the problem anymore, quite the opposite. But I still had to deal with her lingering shyness.

"How can you possibly…"

"I know what to do, baby."

She bites her lip, her pupils impossibly dilated. She shifts restlessly in my lap, wincing again.

Fuck.

Damn Kate and Elliot and their non- existent sense of timing!

I pray for a miracle, wondering about the probabilities of a massive traffic jam in downtown Seattle in a rainy Sunday evening keeping our guests from making it to the Escala. Zero to none, reason replies, and I dismiss the idea.

Time to go back to the main subject.

"Indulge me this one time." She is torturing her lower lip again. I touch it with a finger, and she let go of it. "Come with me to Portland, please... I want you to come."

"God, you´re impossible!" She blushes profusely as she catches the double meaning I hadn´t even realized yet. I smile wickedly. She bends down to brush an invisible speck of dust from her shoes, feigning innocence.

"Was your mind always this naughty or have I really corrupted you?" I taunt.

"The second option. My fault, though, I opted for depraved Christian from day one, remember?"

"Oh really? Which reminds me…"

She squeals, as I quickly reverse her position, so that she is lying face down on my lap.

 _Careful,_ I warn the monster, _she_ _´s sore…_

"Christian, don´t you dare…"

I wait, my hand poised above her, making it clear what my next action would be, without having to say the words. I wait. One second. Two.

"Ana?"

 _She doesn´t say no._

 _She doesn´t say red._

No, she is still laughing, so I apply one strategically placed slap. I am careful, so that she feels the weight of my hand and the sting of the slap, but not the pain, aiming for an area where I know she isn't sore.

I decide against lowering her pants - I knew exactly where that would lead us, and my self-appointed big brother and his girlfriend would be here in a matter of minutes. I have no wish to be caught in the act - it almost happened that one time with my mother, and Ana still describes it as a mortifying experience.

"That was for all that lip biting and eye rolling earlier. And all that cursing just now."

"Ouch! Not fair, you curse all the time, you foul mouthed, sadist…"

That earns her two more before I let her go. It was risky, but I took a chance anyway.

"Oh yeah? But you love it and you love me, baby."

"Yes, I do. But sometimes you are such an arrogant, aggravating…"

I interrupt her little outburst by kissing her hard and deep, bending her over my arm, like if she is the damsel in distress and I the evil villain in an old silent movie.

She is completely dazzled when I let her go, looking at me with stars in her eyes.

"Wow, you…"

"Portland, Anastasia. Tomorrow. You and me."

I call that a point well made.

Still in a daze, she merely nods at me.

"Because…" she is rubbing her backside. My turn to wince this time - I must have hit her a little harder than I had planned to.

Her eyes are lowered, so I can´t tell if she is angry or aroused. Or both.

Probably both.

I pull her to me again and take matters in my own hands, and start massaging her sore bottom. She sighs in contentment, her hands on my shoulders, kneading then slightly and I smile inwardly.

"Mmmmm. This is the best part," she moans.

 _Aftercare._

It´s always a pleasure with Anastasia.

Still, I really must talk to Claude Bastille about controlling my own strength a little better. I do not want to take any more risks than necessary. No, hurting Ana beyond what she could bear was not an option.

"Why do you want me in Portland?", she insists, nuzzling the top of my hair with the tip of her nose.

"Because… let me think…" I look up, pretending to be in deep thought. "Because Portland is never fun without you anymore. Because as competent as you are, SIP can and will survive a day without you. And they won´t even be without you because you´ll have your cell phone and your computer at all times and you can be reached at any second if they need you, you´ll be available every second of the day. Because _I_ need you."

 _Because I want to keep her close to me, to make sure she is all right after pushing so many of her soft limits during the weekend_ _…_

 _Because I don_ _´t want to risk her having some kind of delayed reaction and running from me again, like it happened before…_

 _Because I want you to be there with me when I buy fifty yards of the rope of your choice…_

"Ah ha…"

Only a little, playful slap more, more like a caress. She flinches slightly, and I let her go.

"OK?" I ask.

"OK. But what if… I don´t know… I mean, SIP… If they…"

She sits on my lap again and kisses my neck.

"God, you smell so good, you always do," she inhales. "You are very, very distracting, Mr. Grey."

"We´re not driving, we´ll take Charlie Tango." I try to focus on my words, and not one what her hands and lips are doing to me.

 _Distracting? She calls me distracting?_

"If there is an emergency, I can bring you back within the hour." I touched her face. "I want you with me, Ana."

"You do? Haven´t you had enough of me this whole weekend?"

 _No._

 _Never._

Fuck, she is biting my ear, and her hands are… Her hands! At this rate, we will never leave the bedroom again.

"No," I reply, pointedly. "Tired of me yet, Miss Steele?"

"Never. I think I´ll need quite a few lifetimes to get tired of you, Mr. Grey. About fifty."

 _Only fifty?_

"I have a few business meetings in Portland, I need to be there, and while I´m busy and if you are done with your work, I thought you could say hello to your friends…"

 _That_ earns her full attention again.

"José?"

 _Oh no. Fuck! Bad idea, Grey._

"Is he your only close friend up in Portland?" My turn to narrow my eyes at her.

 _The douchebag._

I know she loves him like a brother, and because of that the man must have one or two redeeming qualities. He is a very talented photographer, I admit – in fact I think his work is so good I already referred him to GEH´s marketing department. So, yes, I can _almost_ understand the reason behind Ana´s affection, but I don´t think I´ll never warm up to him. Not after witnessing him trying to kiss her when she was drunk and repeatedly saying no.

She touches a spot in my face that she seems to be highly intrigued about lately, between my right eyebrow and my nose.

"Well, you know, I was never a social butterfly. I _was_ only close to José and Kate but she´s… you know, here. But he is at some photography gig in LA this week," she dismisses the idea with a gesture.

 _How the hell did she know that?_

"He sent us an invitation, but we were… otherwise occupied. I didn´t even bother speaking to you, I said we could not go. I was not up to it that day anyway. I hope you don´t mind."

 _Excellent._

"If I decide to go with you tomorrow, I´d rather stay where I can do some work. Maybe I could just drop by the university to say hi to my professor Frazier. She is… she was my thesis advisor. Better yet, maybe I can invite her to lunch. I haven´t seen her since graduation. I´ll email her later."

 _Perfect._

"Great idea. Good. I´m booking the usual suite at the Heathman."

"Why?"

"You can work there. I don´t know how late I´ll be, we may have to stay the night." Before she says anything, I add. "And if we do, we´ll be back to work early Tuesday morning in time for work. Promise."

"Tuesday? Christian, I told you I have a very important meeting Tuesday morning, I can´t…"

Oh yes.

The _subspace_ writer.

"You´ll be there on time, I guarantee you. I´ll land the chopper on top of SIP, if that is what it takes."

"I don´t think there is a helipad up there…" she frowns.

"Then I´ll find another one close by. You can use your time at the Heathman to prepare for it. I bet it will be quieter than your office. More silent, no interruptions." I say this because I´ve been to her workplace before and I wondered how she managed to get any work done, because the place was absolutely noisy and chaotic. I would never be able to concentrate in such an environment.

"And of course, I´ll be close if you need my help with anything. I´m good at that stuff, you know."

"So they say, Mr. Grey, so they say. My king of the boardroom! I´ll make sure to call if I need your expert´s advice."

"Please do. I´ll be disappointed if you don´t. It would be a pleasure and an honor to help you if you need me, Anastasia."

She thinks for a moment.

"Yes, I guess I could do all that."

OK, now just another small step that needs to be taken.

"You could also do some research." I suggest.

"For my meeting? No, I have all my notes already, it´s only a matter organizing them."

"The fine art of _shibari_ , Anastasia."

"Oh. That." Her eyes darken, she tenses a little bit in my arms. "I… I rather not." She stutters slightly, and I am not sure I like that. "I would prefer that… that you tell me about it while you work. You said it could take a long time. And I have tons of questions."

"I bet you do, Miss Steele!"

"Good, I think I can use that kind of distraction. The sound of your voice does funny things to me… I don´t know about subspace, Mr. Grey, but I´m aiming for nirvana."

 _Wow, Anastasia!_

"Are your really going to trust you about this?"

"Implicitly." She gets up from my lap, and I make no attempt to restrain her this time. Only then I notice some uncertainty in her walk - yes, I had made her sore.

"Do you have any idea how much this means to me? All this?"

"Yes. I do." She sighs. "Just don´t get too cocky."

" _Cocky?_ "

"Yes. You get presumptuous, I am exasperated, you get grouchy, I am distressed, you start ordering me about, I defy you, you want to punish me, I start behaving like a whiny bitch, you get angry, I freak out because it scares the hell out of me and you go all dark and brooding on me again."

"Do we do all that?"

"Yes. It´s like our little dance," she teased. "Of course it always ends in more kinky fuckery, which I absolutely don´t mind."

" _Dark and brooding?_ "

"Yes, sir."

She may have a point about that one. But I decide to pester her a little bit about it.

"Come on, Miss Steele, I would say that a specialist in English Lit such as yourself would have a thing for dark and brooding heroes."

"I have a thing for _you_ , Christian."

Her phone vibrates when I am about to reach for her again and kiss her senseless.

I love it when she says things like that.

"Oh, it´s from Kate. They just got here, I mean they just parked across the street. They are coming up in a few minutes."

"OK, I´m ready if you are. At least I think I am."

 _Why did she have to mention that stuff about kinky fuckery?_

 _Distracting, Miss Steele, very distracting._

"Just one more thing. Is your meeting tomorrow going to take too long?"

"Meetings, actually. One in the morning, a lunch engagement and another in the afternoon." I sound bored, and she senses it.

"Eww. All part of the joys of being a business genius?"

I grin. She does wonders to my self- esteem.

"It´s more like the painful side this time, that is one of the reasons why I want to with me: to make it all more bearable. It will help."

"So, I´m a part of your incentive package?"

I shrug.

"It´s so much _more_ than that Ana." And here it comes. "But also because after all is over I need to go shopping."

" _Shopping_? What are you buying this time, Christian? A shipyard? An airline? Oh, a social network? Or a…"

"Nope. I need to go to Clayton´s."

"You´re buying _Clayton_ _´s_?"

The look in her face is priceless.

" _Rope_ , Anastasia. I need rope. Lots of it. Unless you are about to change your mind, of course."

"Oh. I see. No I haven´t… changed my mind, I´m not planning to do that _ever_. But don´t you have enough of it already? In your red room?"

" _Our_ red room, But no, not nearly enough, not for what I have in mind. Not fifty yards of it."

Her jaw drops.

" _Fifty yards?_ _"_

I can practically hear her mind spin, wondering how can I possibly wrap fifty yards of rope around her body.

"Isn´t it a bit too much?"

"A bit. Probably. But fifty is a nice round number and you seem to be very fond of it."

"Yeah. You know I´m keen on that kind of symbolism, Mr. Grey." She sighed. "Why Clayton´s though? There are so many perfectly nice hardware stores right here in Seattle. Or places where you by that stuff for… you know what."

"I usually shop online for my playroom supplies, Anastasia," I inform her. "The thing is that I have some very fond memories of that place. Besides, as small as Clayton´s is, it does offer a surprising variety of choices. I saw some kinds of rope there I don´t recall seeing anywhere else."

"Oh, I know. Mr. Clayton, the owner - he does have a sailing boat, a small one. He was always particular about keeping the rope section fully stocked," she informs, as she starts braiding her hair. "The poor man kept trying to teach Paul and I about all the different knots, but I was never any good at it. No coordination whatsoever."

"You are good to me in all things that matter, Miss Steele," I whisper.

Before I can make another remark or give in to the urge of kissing her again, we hear voices outside. Our guests have just arrived. I grab Ana´s hand and pull her behind me, before that nosy older brother of mine decides to invade our inner sanctuary.

—


	3. Chapter 3

**SUBSPACES**

 **FSOGFanFictionAddiction** **,** **augiesanne – thank you, thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart.**

 **You should know that it is not very easy for me to share this with anyone who might be interested, it takes some courage. Thanks to you, I am encouraged to continue sharing this.** **I realize I am be dealing with some controversial topics about which people have different views, and I respect them all. I try to keep in mind that this is first and foremost a work of fiction, a fantasy, and I am intelligent enough to realize that in the real world things would be very, very different.**

 **The usual disclaimer: I don´t own the Fifty Shades Trilogy, it belongs to E.L. James, I am just having fun with some of the beloved characters she created.**

 **This is probably another PG13 chapter. As I said in the beginning, I am rating this story M to be on the safe side, it won´t be very explicit.**

 **See you next week with another chapter!**

 **Happy reading!**

 **Chapter 03**

 _ **No one knows what it's like**_

 _ **To be the bad man**_

 _ **To be the sad man**_

 _ **Behind blue eyes**_

 _ **And no one knows what it's like**_

 _ **To be hated**_

 _ **To be faded to telling only lies**_

 _ **Behind Blue Eyes, The Who**_

They are already waiting for us in the living room, drinks in their hands, thanks to the supreme efficiency of Mrs. Jones.

"Ah, there they are!"

"And alive, both of them! What was it, you guys, some kind of sex marathon I didn´t know about? Trying to get into the Guinness book of world records?"

I shake my head.

"Very funny, Elliot. Unoriginal, though... Whoooa!"

My bickering with Elliot is interrupted when Ana - who was walking right behind me, still braiding her hair - trips on the step leading to the living room area and lands with her hands flat on my back.

Right there, in one of my forbidden zones.

She is quick, as she usually is when she touches me accidentally - almost immediately her hands slid to a safer spot, as she whispers.

"It´s all right, it´s me, Christian."

As fast as Ana is, she is unable to prevent the sudden rush of the old paralizing fear and all the feelings that come with it as the adrenaline quicks in - the tachycardia, the cold sweat, the blood draining from my face… and the near physical pain.

 _It´s Ana._

 _Only Ana_.

Although I can bear her touch now - and only hers - she is always careful to give me warning first. Yes, we´re dealing with it together, it´s not always easy, but we´re coping. It´s a novelty to me, I am still getting used to it.

I remember once in school a similar incident happened, and my reaction was immediate and violent - I broke the jaw of the boy who run into me by accident. That was the first of the four schools I was expelled from. Of course over the years I learned to read the environment around me and control it to avoid similar incidents. However, Anastasia is far from being a threat, that is why I am gradually naturally letting my guard down with her. Occurrences like these are bound to become more common from now on, and I must learn to reset my mind to be able to deal with those.

I don´t know if Elliot and Kate notice my reaction, it is all too fast. Frankly, right now I don´t even care. My brother knows about all that haphephobia shit, but his girlfriend… I am not sure how much he told her about his certifiably insane younger brother. She is very protective of Anastasia, and every time we are together I feel like she watches me like a hawk.

 _And not without a reason, Grey_ _…_

"I´m sorry," Ana whispers, standing on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek, before moving to greet our guests.

"I´m good," I whisper back.

Because I was.

 _I am._

"Sorry about the entrance, guys, it´s always me and my two left feet," she says as she hushes to hug them both, giving me a little time to recover.

Damage control, thy name is Ana!

 _God, I love this woman!_

"Never mind, it´s always fun to watch women lunging at my little brother like that, on purpose or not." says Elliot. "One could write an epic novel about those!"

I take a couple of deep, calming breaths.

Then I start counting to ten.

This is going to be a long evening!

"And I could write an epic novel about Ana´s falls, you know" Kate says humorously, leaning back in the couch. While I poured me and Ana some wine, she starts telling us one hilarious story about my girlfriend´s near legendary awkwardness. Ana starts laughing, I do not. She keeps telling me that she is used to Kate Kavanaugh´s gentle bullying, but I still don´t like it.

I sit next to Ana in the couch, handling her a glass of white wine, I place a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Here, let me do this for you," I say, tugging at her hair. She turns slightly, her back to me, and I start braiding her beautiful thick hair again, since it had come wildly loose during her near fall. I can use the distraction, for I am too close to strangling my older brother.

"Thank you, _sir,_ " she whisper, for my ears only. My breath catches.

"I happen to find Anastasia´s clumsiness one of her most endearing qualities, Kate," I say a little dryly.

I hear the lovely sound of one of Ana´s giggles.

It soothes me.

"Endearing, Christian? Oh no, you don´t!" she exclaims. My frown deepens.

"I do." I pull on her hair a little for emphasis. She flinches only slightly.

 _Control yourself, Grey!_

"He doesn´t." She turns to Kate. "You should have seen the look in his face when I fell into his office."

I smirk, raising my eyebrows, tying the end of her braid with a hair tie she promptly provides me.

She is right, of course. I was profoundly annoyed that day, and one of my first thoughts had been would I refine her motor skills with the aid of a cane.

"Oh yeah? You should have seen the look in yours, baby" I retort. That had been the precise moment I mistook her for a potential submissive. I still have no doubt that if I had told her to _kneel_ , she would have done it, without a thought.

The Kavanaugh creature laughs, completely oblivious to my dark thoughts.

"This is interesting. Incidentally, where did you learn to braid a girl´s hair like that, bro?" Elliot asks.

I look at her hair critically. That was good work, not one strand out of place. I will never understand why Ana complained so much about her hair – it was always so beautiful. I shrug.

I remember something then, an experiment I´ve been willing to try, and Anastasia beside me gave me the security I needed to do it. I call it _hide in plain sight._ I am sure Flynn will have fun with this one, if I ever decide to tell him. The day I told Ana about it, she laughed and called me crazy.

" _You won´t be able pull it off, Christian,_ " she said.

 _Oh yeah? Won´t I? Just watch me, babe._

Sometimes the truth is so far fetched that people do not believe it. I could simply say that the crack whore had taught me to do that to her hair when I was three, and I perfected the technique with a dominatrix who seduced me when I was fifteen and a good number of sex slaves over the years, but that would be going to far. I´m not ready for that yet.

I decide to be cautious. I will start with a half-truth this time. I mention the name of a notorious sex club in Seattle. I had been there just once in my early days after I broke up with Elena. I never came back – just not enough privacy, a necessary requirement for someone like me. The fact that the place was notorious alone was an indication that it was not secretive enough for me. My guests don´t buy it of course, and they take it as a joke – Elliot laughs so hard I think there are tears in his eyes. Anastasia just shakes her head and gives me one of her amused " _what am I going to do with you?_ " looks.

 _It works! It fucking works._

 _I should try this more often_ _…_

"Did you take Ana there?" Kate asks.

"No, but I might."

 _No, I wouldn´t._ I might take Ana to a club one day if she is curious enough, but certainly not that one. Never that one. Perhaps to another place, one that was safer.

"Hey, Ana, we could go there someday. We´ll take Mia too and make it a girl´s night. It would be fun."

My girlfriend and my little sister with Katherine Kavanaugh in a fucking sex club? Talk about the stuff of nightmares.

"Over. My. Dead. Body," I say flatly.

"Don´t be a grouch, Christian, it could be fun," Elliot laughs. "We could tag along, and Ethan too."

 _Ethan and Mia? No, I don´t think so._

I say nothing, but I gulp down my entire glass of wine.

"I think I need another one of these," I say, reaching for the bottle. The damn thing was already empty, so I walked to the nearby cellar for another one.

"Come on, you guys, don´t torture him like that." My girl´s protective instincts kick in.

"Why not, it´s fun!"

"Elliot…"

"What did I tell you, Elliot? You know, when I first met Ana I thought: this girl does need protection," Kate says.

 _We agree on that one, Miss Kavanagh,_ I thought. I just wonder now that they were done tormenting me, she wanted to torment Ana…

"Day one of college, we were in this huge auditorium. Anastasia Rose Steele manages to find the _only_ chair that was broken, and..."

"Oh God!" Ana says, embarrassed. "It was the single most embarrassing moment of my entire life. Please Kate, don´t go there…"

"No, it wasn´t the single most embarrassing moment of your entire life, Anastasia Rose," Kate says. "I can think of half a dozen others, including falling on your face in front of Seattle´s most eligible bachelor. _That_ is a winner."

Before I could say exactly what I thought of that I hear it - dissonant sounds coming from my piano. My prized grand piano, the one I bought soon after I made my first million.

Elliot.

Playing _Chopsticks_.

I cringe. My ears actually start hurting. It´s worse than fingernails on a blackboard. Almost as bad as fingernails running down my chest.

I don´t think my grand piano has ever known such kind of abuse. I know of concert pianists why twice the musical talent that I might have that would sell their souls to be able to play just once in an instrument like that. And my brother treated it like a child´s toy…

"Elliot, cut that out," I warn him.

He switches to his personal rendition of _Smoke on the Water._

"Get the fuck of my piano, Elliot!" I warn him.

I do not raise my voice, but it is that tone I have perfected over the years with undisciplined subs or incompetent employees. The first time I _dared_ to use that voice with Elena, still as her submissive, she made me pay dearly for it. I could still feel the viciousness of the whip cutting through my skin when I close my eyes.

But it never fails. Its full effect is what tells me Anastasia would have knelt at my feet that first day in my office if I only had asked her to.

I´m pleased to see the smile freezing in Kate´s face.

 _Yes, Miss Kavanaugh, thi_ _s is me. Deal with it._

 _And stop bullying my girl friend, or you´ll see much more._

Then I look at my brother. He looks oddly… _hurt_ , which is kind of unexpected… Or it could be that I never payed attention to his reactions to my little outbursts to me, Ana is also staring at Elliot, unmoving. The room is completely silent, one could hear a pin drop. The tension in the air is almost unbearable.

 _Oh shit!_

I don´t know what comes over me, I do not stop to think twice about what I am about to do. In my mind now, there is only one thing that can be done to minimize the damage and save the day from a complete disaster.

I stand up, taking Ana´s hand in mine. She doesn´t say anything, but she has that pleading " _please fix it, Christian_ " look in her eyes.

"Come here, baby," I say, as we walk towards the piano. "You too, Kate," I say over my shoulder. Elliot is looking at me like if I have just grown horns or something.

 _Good, at least the wounded look is gone_ , I think.

 _Keep doing what you are doing, Grey…_

"Move over, Elliot. Let me show you how it´s done."

I sit on the stool, with Ana protectively behind me. She places her hands on my shoulders, and then slowly slides them down my chest. Why do I have a feeling that my brave girl is challenging them, that she is making a point? At the same time, she is comforting _me,_ she is being protective. I smile - it is something I was not used to, being protected and I… _like it_.

Very much.

"Whaat?!" I hear my brother´s exclamation. "No way! No fucking way!"

I don´t know if he is more impressed because I am about to start playing for them or because I am allowing someone to touch my chest. Probably both. Yes, he has noticed it, the whole Grey family is fully aware of the _no touching Christian_ rule.

Yes, bro, _she_ can touch me.

Only her.

Next to him, Kate watches us, puzzled. I am not sure what Elliot told her about my insane life, but I am sure about two things:

1) My brother would be subjected to a lengthy interrogation that same evening;

2) Kate Kavanaugh preparing another one of her " _why you should not trust Christian Grey_ ", or " _you are jumping into an abusive relationship_ " lectures to Anastasia.

Yes, I heard about those. Sometimes I wish I could spend five minutes with Kate Kavanaugh to set some things straight - I have a small problem with people who had never suffered any kind of abuse before in their sheltered, protected lives try to lecture others about what they _think_ an abusive relationship is. For years Flynn tried to enlighten about the topic, while we dissected every aspect of my relationship with Elena, but it wasn´t until Anastasia came into my life that I finally convinced myself of what it was and learned – the hard way, I might add – not to overstep boundaries that sometimes are not clear at all. ]

I place my fingers on the keyboard. They are surprisingly steady, in spite of the unexpected flow of dark thoughts.

"Wow dude!" Elliot exclaims. He seems genuinely touched. It is odd. "Seriously, I haven´t heard you play in years. Too bad Mom and Dad aren´t here. Hey, and Mrs. Lincoln... I remember it was her who practically forced you play for us."

Anastasia tenses before I do, her hands retract to my shoulders again.

 _Please don_ _´t go,_ I want to plead. She starts kneading my shoulders, as if she heard me.

 _Stay with me, baby._

I say nothing and I start playing the first thing that comes to my mind.

Eric Satie´s _Je Te Veux._

Unusually cheerful for my tastes, but it has a certain nostalgic melancholy that appeals to me. Behind me, Ana starts swaying to the rhythm of the music.

"Hey, I love this one! I didn't know you could play it!"

Baby, you name it, I probably can play it, as long as it was a classical piece. The ridiculously expensive piano instructors my mother hired over the years made sure of it, and what they didn't teach me, I learned on my own.

I feel her body brushing against my back, it is comforting. And she is _humming!_ That is all the incentive I need, and I keep playing with gusto.

When the piece ends, I do not give them time for cheer or applaud - I fucking hate that -, I start the next one. Something to bring the mood down, otherwise I feared that they would start dancing around the penthouse to the sound of my music. No, that would be too much, too soon for me. I think quickly, choosing Francis Poulenc´s _Melancholie,_ which I find less depressing than the title indicates. It suits the weather outside perfectly.

Three more pieces follow, one after another.

I try to keep the mood as light as possible, not going too much into the more somber tunes I favor. I stay away from the Bach piece I played the first night Ana slept here, the _Marcello_ \- that one makes her cry, and I hate it when she cries. But I don´t think too much about what I am playing, I just play. After Beethoven´s _Appassionata,_ I finish with the transcription for piano of Montagues and Capulets from Prokofiev´s Romeo and Juliet - an old favorite of mine.

"Wow!"

"Bravo!"

Kate and Elliot applaud after I finish. I always hated that part, so I prefer to focus my attention upon Anastasia. She leans down, nuzzles my hair and kisses the top of my head.

"I love you," she whispers, her cheek against mine, and suddenly I feel like I am seven feet tall again. "Thank you, thank you." Her next kiss lands at the corner of my mouth. I am deeply moved by her tender gesture, much more than I can say or express. It disturbs me, but in a very, very good way.

"Wait until Mom and Dad hear about this. Prepare yourself for a concert next weekend, bro, you won´t get away with it."

 _Maybe not, but I_ _´ll damm well try!_

Elliot continues raving about my performance, while Ana still keeps a tight hold on me, my back to her front.

"And I thought you only knew how to play depressing stuff. That was almost cheerful. Maybe I could bring my guitar and we could try…"

"No," I say vehemently.

 _No, definitely not that!_

"Elliot, don´t push it! Well, I didn´t know he could play at all," Kate says. "But I know enough about music to say it was concert level, Christian. I´m impressed. Wow!"

Anastasia is still silent. Unusually silent.

 _What is she thinking right now?_

Before I have time to ponder about the answer that question, and while they were still exalting my musical talents, she walks slowly around me, her left hand never leaving my shoulder. I should recognize the stride of a woman with a purpose, but this time I don´t. I am much to mesmerized by her, it´s almost like a _pas-de-deux,_ where the ballerina slowly circles her partner before...

With a determined look in her face I´d seem only a few times before, my daring girl _straddles_ me.

The room becomes instantly silent.

Anastasia Steele, the virgin who fell head first into my office. She fucking _straddles_ me. And I let her. Then she gives me one hell of a kiss - that is the only way I can describe it. If I had her talent for storytelling, I would probably be able to detail exactly how her lips felt against mine, soft, then hard, then soft again; and every little motion our tongues together and how she… how we… How I lost myself entirely and grabbed her hips, bringing her even closer to me…

Sorry, I am not able to do that.

I can only _feel_.

That was definitely another first for us.

My body responds as it should - she intoxicates me. I am sure she was just as inebriated, by my music, by me, she would never have acted so recklessly otherwise. I have no doubt that she wouldn´t have done such a thing in front of my parents, but it was _Kate and Elliot_. Ana spent the past few years listening while Kate Kavanaugh banged her boyfriends across the hall, Elliot included. I note, not without some amusement, that perhaps Ana is paying them back, even if unconsciously.

"Thank you," she says again, before getting up, touching my nose with hers.

"You go girl," Kate exclaims, laughingly. "So proud of you!"

"That was way better than the concert!"

"Thank you both!" Ana replies gingerly.

"I just wouldn´t to do that in front of Mom, Dad and Miss Lincoln next weekend." I am still too hypnotized by Ana´s kiss to reply properly to that, so I let it pass. "Mom would be all right, but Dad might have a heart attack. Just saying… No, I don´t think I would try that!"

"Oh yes you would, given the chance you would," says Kate.

"Now I get why Mr. Grouch here let you punch his V-card, Ana! I mean… wow!"

Her response to my brother is both quick and unexpected.

"You got it all wrong, it was the other way around: he punched mine."

"It´s true, I can vouch for that!" Kate raises her hand.

"And I´ll punch _you_ if you keep that up, Elliot," I warn him, getting up from the piano stool.

It is nothing but friendly banter, but this time I don´t mind, which is highly _unusual_ for me. I don´t know what it is, only that Anastasia´s presence had everything to do with it.

There is something else there, something almost primitive, definitely outdated, undoubtedly sexist, completely unreasonable and 100% politically incorrect. Perhaps Flynn could help me define that, but I feel an absurd caveman´s pride.

 _She. Is. Mine._

Still laughing, our guests drift back to the main living room area. We follow - me walking behind Ana this time, holding one of my hands.

And I make the best of the opportunity. I grab her other hand and hold it firmly behind her back. Then I lean closer to her.

"Pull that stunt on me again and I´ll keep you in my playroom chained to my bed for three days straight." I whisper very close to her ear, tugging at wrist, still bound by my hands.

 _Yes baby. 100% Dom mode._

I say it because I knew it will turn her on. And it does. I say it because I want to, because I need to.

Because I can.

"Promise?" she whispers back breathlessly, looking over her shoulder - a very sexy look. Thermonuclear sexy.

 _Miss Steele_ _…_

Not too long ago I made a similar threat that involved her bound and gagged in a crate and she went ballistic, but the final result was an unforgettable 24 hours in Georgia.

My rebellious, reluctant, sometimes submissive…

 _Oh Anastasia!_

If not for our two guests I would carry her back to the bedroom right now and I would lose myself in her, I would fulfill my threat and carry her to the playroom, I would take her so hard and deep she would not be able to walk straight tomorrow, she wouldn´t be able to think about anything or anyone other than me for days. What am I saying, forget the damn playroom, or the bedroom - I would do it right here, right now.

We sit on the couch, my right hand automatically wraps itself around Ana´s braid again, holding it firmly. She loves that, I can tell - it reminds both of us of other happy times. She sits demurely, her hands fidgeting, perhaps only now realizing the full extent of what she has done. Shy Anastasia is back. I cover her restless fingers with one of my hands and hold them firmly.

 _Later,_ I want to say.

Meanwhile, of course my older brother will not let that little incident pass. He has to start being funny again, not missing the opportunity to torture us further. The prick!

"Please don´t tell me you two have done it on that piano, because for the looks of it just now…" he says. "Oh geez, I sat on that stool you guys, you could have warned me."

"Elliot," I warn him.

Then Kate decides to join the ranks of the enemy.

"Are you kidding me? It´s 7 pm on Sunday, they´ve been here since Friday evening. From the looks of it, they probably done it everywhere, except for Christian´s desk at GEH and Charlie Tango."

 _Right again, Miss Kavanaugh!_

 _Mmmmm_ …

 _My desk_ _…_

 _Charlie Tango_ …

The conversation shifts to more normal topics after that and it is… yes, it was nice. As much as I´d like to strangle Elliot from time to time and as much as Kate´s bullying of Ana annoys the hell out of me, I have to recognize the fact that they are brilliant conversationalists. They finally leave about one hour later, and we are alone again.

Anastasia looks at me as soon as the elevator doors close.

"What is it, Anastasia?" I ask softly.

She could go from extreme shyness to extremely assertive to irresistible seductress in the blink of an eye. I would forever be in awe of this woman. She is back to her shy mode now.

"Still sore?" I ask, holding her face in my hands, because I want her looking at me when she answers. "Shall I make it worse or better? Your choice. I love making you sore, you know that."

"Pervert," she whispers, as I bend down to kiss her.

"Your pervert…" I whisper in her mouth, my breath mingling with hers.

"Mine… Christian, this is not helping at all. You said earlier…"

"I know what I said. I´ll take care of you in one way or another. In every way. In any way you ask me to."

She melts in my arms, I can tell her knees are weak because she is leaning into me, her arms around my neck. Yes, I love that.

"I can´t just go to bed and lie down next to you if you keep doing this… Oh God!" she sighs, as I start kissing her neck.

"Bed, Anastasia. Sleep." I breath against her throat. "That is exactly what I mean by taking care of you."

 _Well, truthfully, not exactly._

"I´ll hold you until you fall asleep. We both have a long day tomorrow."

" _Sleep_?" she sounds disgruntled and more than a little disappointed. "But I still want you."

"I know, baby. And I want you, always. But you need time to recover."

I lift her and she wraps those incredible legs of her around me as I carry her to the bedroom. Yes, she is right. This is not helping at all.

"I´ll… recover tomorrow. I´ll have hours and hours by myself while you deal with your mergers and aquisitions."

I sit her on the bed, then I remove her shoes. Her shirt is next - or, should I say, my shirt.

"Lie down, Anastasia. I have to take care of you, baby."

"In every way, Mr. Grey?"

"Yes."

With a satisfied sigh, she obeys me instantly. Her hands to the side, palms up, sliding with unconscious ease into one of the classic poses of a submissive.

"How do we do it? How do we stop this?" Her eyes are closed, I bend down and kiss each eyelid.

"Life is short. We just don´t."

 _Oh, what the hell_ , I think, as I start removing the rest of her clothes.

I pull down her yoga pants, as she breathes another contented sigh. She is left wearing a pair of simple cotton bra and panties. White. She still favors those when she wants to be comfortable at home, in spite of the fact that she now she has an entire wardrobe of the sexiest lingerie ever designed for a woman, in every color of the rainbow. On the other hand, only Anastasia Steele can make basic cotton bra and panties look like the sexiest lingerie ever designed for a woman.

She stretches, thrusting her breasts up, her thighs slightly parted.

"Your desk?" She yawns. "I think I would like that."

 _Oh Anastasia!_

"Trust me, I am putting that high in my list of priorities, baby."

 _Charlie Tango_ _…_

Suddenly, Monday becomes a day full of possibilities!

—

Francis Poulenc, Melancholie: watch?v=OG_pMHOF8ME

Eric Satie, Je Te Veux: watch?v=wbT9DeULzU4

Sergei Prokofiev, Montagues and Capulets (from Romeo and Juliet): watch?v=TF8pA3vvLDY


	4. Chapter 4

**SUBSPACES**

 **Thank you reviewers, I wouldn´t feel like it is worth to keep going if not for you!**

 **And I´m sorry about the delay, I know that, following my schedule, I should have uploaded this a few days ago. But I wanted to add a few things, sort of trying to get into Christian´s business mind a little bit. Although I planned this story entirely on Christian´s POV, you´ll be hearing from Anastasia soon – I will be adding a little interlude in her POV.**

 **The usual disclaimer always apply. I do not own the Fifty Shades trilogy, I am writing just for fun. No profit is intended.**

 **Chapter 04**

 _ **When these pillars get pulled down**_

 _ **It will be you who wears the crown**_

 _ **And I'll owe everything to you.**_

 _ **How much pain has cracked your soul?**_

 _ **How much love would make you whole?**_

 _ **You're my guiding lightning strike.**_

 _ **I can't find the words to say,**_

 _ **They're overdue.**_

 _ **I've traveled half the world to say,**_

 _ **I belong to you**_

 _ **Muse, I belong to you**_

I wake up alone in bed. The feeling should be familiar, since it´s been that way during all my adult life, but I don´t like it anymore. I´m no longer comfortable with it. It was still dark outside, the rain finally stopped.

 _We´re going to chase the dawn again,_ I thought, sighing in contentment. Nice!

 _Where is my Ana?_

Frowning, I realize how different this scenario is from, let´s say, only six months ago. In the day of a very important meeting, I would wake up already channeling all my self-control and discipline towards whatever I wanted to accomplish, the laser focus for which I am famous in the business would be precisely aimed towards my goal in Portland. Before even getting up, I would start exercising my mind first, recalling all the pros and cons of every possible decision ahead of me, making a mental list of everything I had to say, every point I had to make. I would think about nothing else. I certainly would not wake up thinking about rope bondage and Anastasia Steele – and not in this order. Without the shadow of a doubt I am a better man because of those changes, because of Ana. A happier man. If that also makes me a better businessman, only time will tell. My gut instinct tells me that such a thing was highly possible. Yes, I can make that work.

Can I?

I let out an impatient sigh. Let me try this shit again.

Six months in a day like this I would start thinking about Asclepius instead, the Greek god of medicine and… no, wait. Not him, his Roman counterpart, _Vedius_. Fuck, how am I supposed to do well today if I can´t even remember the name of the company I will be adding to the GEH portfolio before the day is over?

 _Vedius Pharma._

Vedius.

That´s it.

 _Focus, Grey!_

I take a few deep breaths. No need to panick, I have nothing to worry about today, and not only because I´ll have my usual safety net, a very competent staff working with me to guarantee my success. Tempting as the idea was, I did _not_ spend most of my time last week carefully planning a BDSM scene down to the smallest detail to impress the hell out of my girlfriend and push through her soft and hard limits. I worked on planning other things as well, I studied hard. Today´s meetings, for instance. I am well and fully prepared, every detail is stored in my memory. Information about the company I´m buying, about each member of the team of conservative executives that will be sitting across from me in the boardroom, what will have to do, what I will have to say to those men and women, who are no so easily impressed, to convince them to sign those papers and hand over their company to me… The graphics, the numbers, the statistics… All of it. I was… No, I _am_ ready.

If all goes well – and it will go well - this will be only the beginning for me towards another one of the long-term goals for my company. That´s a pleasant thought to focus for a moment or two. Vedius Pharma first appeared on my radar when I heard about how serious they are about funding scientific research about manufacturing vaccines and basic medication for developing countries at an extremely low cost. They are so focused on that goal that of the conditions for the final acquisition of the company is that GEH will commit to keep funding those researches. That I can to, with both arms tied behind my fucking back – I will throw so much money at the Vedius team of Nobel nominated scientists that it will make them dizzy, but I will also make sure it was well spent and in tune with GEH´s goals.

 _Good business._

 _Survival_.

Producing food more efficiently and at a lower cost. Shipyards and airlines to transport that food around the world, wherever and whenever it is needed. Technology to do all that and more in a self-sustaining manner, improving the planet for future generations instead of ruining it any further. Technology to help people communicate in an easy affordable manner about what they need to survive, to make it possible to act quickly whenever a high risk situation is detected. Healthy people to be able to do all that efficiently - and that was where Vedius finally comes in. There will be more in the future, of course. Buying SIP has not been an anomaly for GEH, not a whim of mine because Anastasia happens to work there and I was – no, I still am – insanely jealous of her now former boss. It was only the first, small step towards what will be a plan to promote literacy around the world. If people can´t read, they can´t communicate, they can´t ask for help, they will be sick because they don´t eat or they won´t eat because they are sick…

 _Good business._

Yes. Good business. More consumers in the world, more money spent, more companies thriving, more money to make this world a better place to live. That is all there is to it.

 _Not because I am doing my part so that there are fewer Jack Hyde´s out there in the world preying on helpless women… Less crack whore mothers dying of an overdose and pimps who use their little boys as human ash trays… Boys who grow up to be sadistic monsters, so broken that the only way they can survive is by not being touched by another human being, by controlling everything and everyone around them, by living a secret life where they get off on disciplining and spanking pretty brown-haired girls who..._

 _Fuck!_

I hate it when the one thing I can´t control is the flow of thoughts coming from my fucking subconscious mind.

 _And Anastasia… I can´t control her, can I?_

 _Where are you, Ana?_

She didn´t sleep very well last night, I could tell that she is anxious, and it drives me mad when she is like this and she still won´t open up to me. She trashed and turned for a long time, something that she doesn´t normally do. At some point, one of her elbows hit my ribs with a painful jab. I yelped. It´s weird, but the truth is that I am not used to suffering pain anymore, I haven´t been for a while. It caught me by surprise.

"That´s it," I said out loud, wondering where does such a frail looking creature like Anastasia Steele stores so much strength in her body. I brought her to me, wrapped my arms and legs around her.

"Stay still. Sleep. _Now_!"

It never fails.

 _I love you, Anastasia._ That´s the last thing I remember, murmuring those words on her ear and listening to her contented sigh as she finally calmed and drifted off to sleep.

I don´t know what it is that had her so shaken last night, perhaps it is the _impromptu_ trip to Portland – I recently discovered that Anastasia is uncomfortable with sudden changes in her routine. Or, perhaps it is because we´ve been pushing too many limits too soon. At last, but not least, there is also the tiny matter of our little disagreement last night, just before we went to bed.

Music coming from the kitchen tells me where she is and distracts me from the direction my thoughts were taking me. She is there in my kitchen, where she has been every morning since she has agreed to move in with me. Once my mind is at ease about that simple fact, at least, old fears are put to rest.

 _Pink Floyd_ … _The Doors_ … _Def Leppard… The Who…_

Anastasia is going through a classic rock phase, it seems. At least that is the kind of music she favors early in the morning. " _It wakes me up,_ " she told me once. With a silly smile on my face, I shower and change as quickly as possible, the lingering humidity in the bathroom telling me that she´d done the same not too long ago. With my hair still damp, I run to the living room, carrying my overnight bag and the suit I will be wearing later that day. I place everything by the door, right next to her stuff.

 _Good, she´s ready,_ I thought. No changing her mind about Portland. I breathe the first of many sighs of relief that morning.

I quickly message Taylor, asking him to get our stuff, so that it will be waiting for us at the hotel by the time we arrive there. He will be driving to Portland ahead of us, and will be on standby all day. I´ll probably do most the driving myself while we are there, but I always need my top security man and the rest of the team nearby. I wouldn´t feel that Ana was safe otherwise, something told me we haven´t heard the last of that fucker Jack Hyde.

Since we are going to be out of town until tomorrow, I decided to give Mrs. Jones a couple of days off, so Ana is busy fixing us a quick breakfast when I make my appearance in the kitchen. Bacon and eggs. Buttered toast. Coffee for me, tea for her. Although I might be expanding her horizons in that area as well - she always ends up stealing one sip or two from my cup.

She is singing now…

 _She comes in colors ev'rywhere_

 _She combs her hair_

 _She's like a rainbow_

 _Coming, colors in the air_

 _Oh, everywhere_

 _She comes in colors… (*)_

"Good morning, Anastasia!" I exclaim cheerfully.

She jumps, as she always does whenever I take her by surprise like that. She´s so adorable! I grin like a fucking idiot.

"Hi!" More than a little flushed, she quickly swallows a bite of the toast in her hands - her choice for a microphone this morning.

 _Good, at least she´s eating. One less argument between me and the delightful mass of contradictions that is Anastasia Steele._

"Christian! Good morning! You´re up already, I was going to call you in a few minutes."

She is about to turn around again but stops, contemplating me in appraisal, her head tilted to one side. Her flush deepens. I think know the kind of look she has on her face by now.

"Oh my!"

"What is it?" I look down at myself. Jeans and a tee-shirt, nothing out of place. "What?"

"I expected you would be in your full CEO mode this morning, Mr. Grey. You know." And - air quote. "Business meetings"." One day I should tell him that those have the same effect on me that the eye rolling has.

"CEO mode. Seriously?"

"Yup." She gives a little shrug. "You know. The Chief Executive Officer thing. How do you guys call it? The _C-section_?"

"You mean the C-suit?" I grin.

"I know that, I was only messing with you a little bit. You know what I mean, all of you CEO´s, CFO´s, COO´s and all of those C people. Clean shaven, perfectly tailored suit, amazing tie, expensive cologne, arrogant cocky walk, megalomaniac attitude, like if the world belongs to you… and it kind of does, anyway. Which is very annoying to us little minions, if you ask me." She points to me. "Not old blue jeans and… all spiky and _scruffy_ rock and roll bikerthing going on. I wasn´t prepared for that, you just took me by surprise. I like it. I like it a lot."

There is a noticeable burn mark in her neck – she is reminded of it as she makes her comment, and touches it lightly. That was a new one – it probably happened last night, because I would have noticed it yesterday.

I rub my jaw.

 _Scruffy_?

Well, she likes it that way, she told me so repeatedly. She loves the roughness of my whiskers in the more sensitive spots, and who am I to complain about that? She doesn´t seem to object the those burn marks – I certainly will not, although I know I must be careful with that too. I have no wish to turn Anastasia into a walking rash - her skin is just too delicate.

Ana might not mind my growing beard, but it might be a good idea to shave again before my first meeting in Portland. The conservative bunch of executives of Vedius Pharma I would be dealing with today, including a CEO belonging to the old French aristocracy, might not be keen to my current grunge look.

Which reminds me…

"Do you? A biker? Really, Miss Steele?" She gives an apologetic little shrug, but she never meets my eyes.

I caught her watching Sons of Anarchy a few days ago… She had assured me that she wouldn´t steal a second glance towards the blond actor who played the badass biker after meeting me, but I still wanted to kick that brit´s ass because my girl was drooling over him. Yeah, I know he is British because she told me – her trivia knowledge about the guy is more than enough to make me squirm. Apparently, she and Kate Kavanagh indulged themselves in a Jax Teller marathon once a month. A girl´s night, they called it.

I hate that guy!

"Which one is your favorite, Miss Steele?" I hug her from behind and kiss the mark on her neck, making sure she feels my spiky whiskerson her skin. She shivers, I wanted to kiss every little goose bump I see forming in the skin of her arms.

"Both make me want to jump on you, so there is your answer." Her voice is husky.

"Only me?"

"Only you."

 _Eat your heart out, Jax Teller!_

"What about that biker you and Kate are always drooling over?" I provoke.

 _Yes, maybe I do have a masochistic side after all._

"Are you kidding me? He doesn't hold a candle to you, Christian Grey, you have no reason to be jealous."

 _Jealous? Who? Me?_

"You´ve got the edge over him, he´s fictional, you´re real. End of discussion."

Her honesty could be disarming at times. Still, I pry.

"The guy who plays him is real…"

"… and probably married – Kate told me, though I have no idea. And I don´t care, if you must know, like to know too much about the real lives of those who play the characters I like, it kills the fantasy."

"That makes sense. You still know he is British." That qualifies as too much information in my book.

"That´s common knowledge, Christian. It doesn´t matter anyway, it is not about the man, it´s the _bike_."

 _Oh, is it?_

"I always wanted to ride a Harley."

 _WTF?_

"Seriously?"

Hmm, that would be a hard wish to make true. I´ve never ridden a Harley Davidson myself, and I have no intention of learning how to drive one those things. I´d rather spending the little free time I have for that soaring or learning to fly my jet.

"Yup. My mom´s husband number three had one of those, but he wouldn´t let me get within ten feet of it. That was only one of the many, many reasons why I didn´t like him very much."

She said it almost casually, but it was like a dark cloud crossed her eyes, her voice lowered. Was a little darkness in her past as well? The idea makes me uneasy – I feel the urge to track husband number three find out what he did to Anastasia or her mother that makes her shrink and squirm like that when she mentions him. Stephen M. Morton was the bastard´s name, if I remember correctly from Ana´s dossier. Depending on what I find out, I will probably want to squeeze the life out of him.

Slowly.

Yes, I would talk to my security team about it as soon as I got back from Portland.

"Was Mr. Morton a biker?"

She laughs.

"Stephen? No way, he wasn´t cool enough for that. He just kept it there in the garage, no one was allowed to touch it, even my mom. It was pretty ridiculous." Another giggle. "And by the way, I never _drool_. Except over you, of course."

Oh, abrupt change of subject, Miss Steele. What can I do to make you tell me about husband number three one of these days, I wonder…

Perhaps some other time.

"Really?"

"Really. Actually, I am absurdly pathetic about it, Mr. Grey, I am surprised you never noticed anything."

"I notice, all right, all the time, Miss Steele. Come here. Now what have you done with my morning kiss?"

I turn her around for a quick peck on her inviting lips. She is not happy with just that - she grabs my head, smooths my hair back and suddenly pulls me down to her, reminding me of what a proper morning kiss should be like.

Needless to say, I like her interpretation much better than mine.

Unlike me, she is dressed to kill this morning, in that style that is so uniquely hers, a little bit the young business woman and a little bit of the college grad. I am pleased that she is wearing a dress - that always brings interesting possibilities. I pull her even closer, spreading my hands over her butt and…

 _Whoa,_ she is wearing underwear.

I am tempted to tell her to remove whatever lingerie she's wearing, but I let it pass - knowing Anastasia there would be more challenges for me to face before we even reached the door. But then…

 _A garter, Anastasia?_

Interesting. I like that. I like it very much. I wonder what sassy Miss Steele has in mind for today. Her choice of lingerie poses some very interesting possibilities.

"Breakfast. Now."

I reluctantly let her go with a playful slap on her butt to sit on the balcony and attack my breakfast. We didn´t have much time, I want to be up in the air before 6 am. Although I have to admit I will be thinking about that garter she is wearing for the rest of the day.

"You do look yummy, you know" she says dreamingly, still gawking at me. "Good enough to eat. But then, you always do."

"Yummy, mmm? _This_ is yummy," I say, taking a bite of the scrambled eggs and crispy bacon she had prepared for me.

She giggles.

"I love all of your fifty modes, Mr. Grey. Sometimes they combine, like right now. It can all be very confusing and mercurial. Not to mention sexy as hell."

"Flying Charlie Tango wearing a suit is not very comfortable," I explain, trying to distract myself from her _sexy as hell_ comment, not to mention my growing jealousy towards scruffy bikers in leather jackets riding Harleys. "I avoid that as much as possible. I like some extra freedom of movement, and since I´ve booked the suite at the Heathman, I´ll have time to change and shave before my first meeting."

"Oh. Makes perfect sense. OK. Oh, I was wondering, Is Ross coming with us? Would you like me go ahead and call her while you eat?"

"Nope. She´s already there in Portland," I inform her.

"Oh."

"There were some preliminary meetings over the weekend and she took care of those for me."

"You mean, like _foreplay_."

I nearly choke on a piece of bacon, she promptly slaps my back.

"There you go," she hands me a glass of orange juice. Freshly squeezed. Yes, she knows me well.

"Thank you, Ana."

"You're welcome." She winks at me.

"Are you teasing me with your newly acquired knowledge on sex this morning, Miss Steele?" I raise a quizzical eyebrow at her.

"Oh please, don´t mock my recently acquired sex knowledge, Mr. Grey. Even a veritable encyclopedia such as yourself was a novice once, remember?" I flinch slightly, and she is quick to change the subject, steering us away from dangerous waters. "It all sounds so important - your mergers and acquisitions this morning, I mean."

"Because they are."

 _More than you can possibly know._

"Like, uh, likely to "cause a potential uproar in the market" important?" she pries.

"Might be…" I don´t elaborate, although it feels great whenever she takes any interest in my job. I really, really don´t want to bore her with that stuff this morning, I like the way things are going too much, her light, playful mood. If all goes well in the boardroom today, I´ll tell her all about it later, in detail. I loved talking about my job with her, she was a good listener and surprisingly enthusiastic about my business feats.

"Oh, what am I saying," she dismisses the idea with a gesture. "The stock market stirs if you as much as glare in the direction of another CEO. It was one of the first things I ever read about you."

"And I love that you are so well read, Miss Steele." I decide to tell a little bit. "It´s only a pharmaceutical company I have my eye on."

"Oh? _Only_ that? Is this another change of direction for you? I mean, publishing and now this. Healing the world, Mr. Grey?"

I shrug again.

"Not really. Some slow part of my brain finally figured out that people won´t eat if they are sick, and that if they are sick they won´t eat, so…" Another shrug.

 _Just don´t go there Anastasia, not today. Not now._

I don´t wish to elaborate about my reasons for that. Not even to her or John Flynn who seems to be bent on using all his psychological mumbo jumbo to prove to me that I am some kind of humanitarian hero. I am nothing like that. So, I continue with my usual, near standard, explanation.

"Seems logical. Good business, as usual, it´s all there is to it, Anastasia." Her fingers comb through my hair again, and she kisses my temple. If she only knew how much I virtually come undone by these little tender gestures of hers…

"I know."

"Did you eat?" I ask, trying to appear nonchalant, my acting skills made easier when I note that she is only watching me with a dreamy look in her eyes that, in any other woman, I would find annoying as hell.

 _Drooling again, Miss Steele?_

She blinks, then shakes her head a little, then replies.

"Yes, sir."

I smirk - my fifty modes all come and go, but the Dom is always there lingering on the background. _And she always responds to him._

"Speaking about you and food, did Professor Frazier reply to your email. About lunch?"

I want to make sure that she doesn´t forget herself, and in case she most likely will remain in that hotel suite all day immersed in her work and her notes about the subspace writer.

 _I hate it when she doesn´t eat._

"Yeah, but she can´t make it though, she has a previous engagement. But she is coming to meet me later in the afternoon at the Heathman. For tea. Kind of odd, isn´t it?"

"Why odd?"

I sip my coffee - hot, strong. Just the way I like it.

" _She_ is coming to meet _me,_ that is not how those things work. It is not that Professor Frazier is a sucker for old fashioned hierarchy, but such things are almost natural, I guess. Hmm. I never knew a 4.0 GPA would have that kind of power," she snickered. "I mean, I´m just an ordinary former student, she is a professor with a mile-long CV, not to mention a published writer. I should go to meet _her_ wherever she is, not the other way around."

I shake my head, saying nothing for the moment. Anastasia Steele is not fully aware yet that she is not any ordinary WSU graduate with a 4.0 GPA, and for a number of reasons. The main one - she is _bright_ , wickedly clever, and I think she doesn´t realize how smart she is but her former thesis advisor certainly knows that very well. Any academian in the world would kill to have a student like Ana. Two, she is _my_ girlfriend, and judging by the paparazzi that my security team has to brush off from time to time, the world is now just becoming aware of the fact. Consequently, so is Professor Frasier and the whole WSU faculty.

Yes, it is a fucking ugly world out there!

"Just make sure you eat, OK?" I touch the corner of her lip, removing an invisible bread crumble.

"Mmm…"

"I don´t want to worry about you."

"OK. I´ll eat. I´ll order something from room service."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"I am very serious about this, I need you strong and fit later this week, Anastasia."

She swallows. No, she hadn´t forgotten it.

I glance at my watch.

"Are you finished?"

She nods.

"Just leave the dishes, Mrs. Jones will take care of it when she returns. I hate to rush you, but we should be up on the roof in less than fifteen minutes if I want to make to that boardroom on time. I still have to stop at the hotel to shave and change. Did you pack everything you need? Your notes, books, computer, your phone…"

"Yes. _Sir_. Did you? Handcuffs, spreader bar, clamps, blindfold, flogger." Again the narrowed eyes.

 _Is she mocking me?_

"Oh, the flogger. Don´t forget the flogger!"

 _That smart mouth of hers…_

My turn to roll my eyes.

"If need arises, Miss Steele - and I am pretty damn sure it will eventually -, I thought we could improvise."

"Yes. I know improvisation is your _forte_. But I´m kind of in the mood to be flogged today, since anything else is off limits to me. Except for rulers and your twitchy palms. Are they twitching yet, Mr. Grey?"

Yes, she is still more than a little pissed about last night, I can tell, and that is her attempt at sarcasm. Her eyes are throwing daggers at me again.

And she calls _me_ mercurial.

"Like never. Anastasia, you have no idea!"

 _Yes, they were twitching like never before._

She touches that place above my right eyebrow.

 _Why does she keep doing that?_ I make a mental not to ask her sometime later.

"Of course, I do!"

I wonder if there was time for me to dash into the playroom and grab the first flogger in sight and throw it in my briefcase.

"You keep saying we should walk before we run."

"And you keep reminding me. I also say that I like running." As predicted, she takes a sip of my coffee. "Mmm. You know, that is not quite that bad."

"It´s acquired taste, I won´t be surprised if you end up liking it." She wrinkles her pert little nose at me.

"Nope. Not gonna happen."

Part of our conversation last night starts playing in my mind…

" _Did you do that on purpose? What was that all about? Kissing me like that in front of Kate and Elliot?"_

" _Don´t you know me better? Of course not, it wasn´t on purpose, it was an impulse I couldn´t resist. I forgot that they were there for a crazy moment, and I just… did it!"_

" _I happen to like your occasional public displays of affection, Miss Steele. This one in particular was not only harmless, but it gave your friend and my brother a badly needed those of their own medicine."_

" _I don´t know what came over me. But I guess you´re right, we showed them, didn´t we?"_

" _I do. And yes, we did. I don´t think I´ll ever forget that kiss."_

" _Neither will I. That means you won´t…"_

" _Won´t I what?"_

" _You know. Punish me…?"_

" _Ana… don´t toy with me like that, please."_

" _I´m not, but… I wanna feel it. I am curious."_

" _What is it that you want to feel? What is it that you are so curious about?"_

I remember being reacquainted with the meaning of cold sweat running down my spine she answered my question.

" _Anastasia, are you drunk?"_

No, she wasn´t drunk - just _pleasant inebriated,_ as she described it to me. There was a certain glint of darkness in her eyes that told me that she wasn´t joking either. In any case, she was tempting the monster.

With a _cane_ , of all things.

Did she have any idea at all of what that _thing_ could do to her?

She had seen my collection in the playroom, she had touched it, felt it, even played with them a little bit - but feeling them on her soft skin was another matter entirely.

 _Shit!_

She wouldn´t be able to handle it. _I_ wouldn´t be able to handle it.

"Still mad at me about last night, baby?" I whisper softly

That is the overture she wants.

"You _think_?" She rolls her eyes. "I´m not as mad as I should be. As I would like to be. But yes, since you're asking, yes, when I think about it, I am a little pissed."

"Because I said _no_ to you?"

"No! Because you went all thermonuclear fifty on me again. Because… you…" Words catch in her throat and she seems unable to say them, as she looks around in frustration.

"Talk to me, Ana. We have to communicate about this."

"Fine. What was that, Christian, some kind of reverse safe word? A new BDSM protocol I am not familiar with yet? Tell me, please!"

"Nothing that complicated. That was only me keeping you safe."

"Mmm…"

"What you suggested last night wasn´t running, baby. It was beating Usain Bolt´s 100m world record."

She finally smiles again.

"I´m sorry. I guess I am a little unreasonable when I am… you know…," she starts rambling. "And I seem to be in a state of permanent arousalaround you. I just wanted to know what it feels like. Call it scientific curiosity this time."

"Ana…"

"When I think that you took so many women there with you, but not me I… Oh crap, I… I hate not being able to reach that part of you, Christian, I hate being such a coward. I hate it!"

"Anastasia…" I don´t think she is even paying attention to me anymore. "You´re not a coward, you´re the bravest woman I´ve ever…"

"You and your kinky fuckery, Mr. Grey, I think you´re turning me into a sex addict. Your sex addict exclusively, because the very thought of doing any of this with any other man makes me sick to my stomach."

 _It makes me sick to my stomach as well, Anastasia. It revolts me._

 _A dagger twisting into my dark soul…_

"OK," I say simply, my voice loud enough so that she hears me over her own endless rambling.

She gasps and stares at me, mesmerized.

"Wait. You lost me… or I lost you." She takes a huge breath. "OK… to what?"

"We´ll _try_. I´ll show you, if you want."

"Are you messing with me?"

"I would never joke about this, Anastasia. Never! But I don´t want to repeat the experience with the belt. _Just. One. Strike._ Because you are asking for it. That will be all. And then never again."

I wonder briefly how could I possibly work around that one. Maybe the threat of a strike would be enough to satisfy her curiosity. I am counting on that because I am not sure right now if my arm would obey me with a cane in my hand and Ana...

"Unless I like it."

"Unless you…"

 _Is she fucking kidding me?_

 _No!_

"Ana please!"

 _Another curveball from Miss Steele._ Well, at least she was not asking for the whip, I told myself. That could potentially break her skin or, at least, leave a bruise that wouldn´t disappear for days, and I would not have that.

100% hard limit for me.

"Fine, I´ll behave."

"Just me more careful for what you wish for around me, babe. We´ve been both burned once, I don´t want it to happen again."

She swallows.

"No, I´m not backing down. I know more now than I knew then, I know _you_ better. There are things that I can understand now that I couldn´t before. This time I am not jumping blindly into this like before, Christian. I just hope it´s not..."

"… one strike and _I_ am out?" I continue meaningfully.

"I´m not leaving you. Not. Leaving. You."

"OK. Case closed. We´ll give it a try that and see how it goes. You can always say no up to the last moment. I can always say no if I see you won´t be able to handle it. Satisfied?"

"Extremely. It is always a pleasure negotiating with you, Mr. Grey."

"We aim to please, Miss Steele. Now let´s get out of here!"

—

(*) She´s Like a Rainbow, The Rolling Stones.


	5. Chapter 5

**We´ll hear from Anastasia now. I was not planning this first, the story was going to be entirely told by Christian. But after reading a review from FSOGFanFictionAddiction I thought it would be a nice little break from Mr. Grey´s intensity.**

 **The usual disclaimers apply – see previous chapters.**

 **Thank you all for reviewing! As a newbie in this fandom, your comments are always appreciated.**

 **Happy reading!**

 **Chapter 05**

" _ **Show me the things I've been missing..."**_

 _ **Tori Amos, I am Anastasia**_

It all happens so fast after we land on the usual helipad in downtown Portland. The most difficult part, though, happens when we proceed to our little walk of shame from Charlie Tango to the elevator. A second _first_ for me, and it is not even eight in the morning!

" _Walk fast and look worried_ ," Christian whispers to me as he helps me climb down from Charlie Tango. "Trust me, it never fails."

 _Oh really?_

I swallow a little burst of laughter as I try not to wince as the delicious ache between my legs is intensified when I jump to the ground. In spite of my best efforts, he notices it – he says nothing, but steadies me with his hands around my waist.

"Careful. Take it easy," he whispers, staring down at me. "I´ve got you."

Feelings are all jumbled inside me, I can´t sort them out right now. I´m excited in every possible way, physically, mentally. I´m inflamed. I want to go back in time and do all that all over again. On the other hand, when I think of the practical aspects, about the consequences, of what we did less than one hour ago… I´m mortified. I _never_ want to don't that again. I think Dr. John Flynn could call that a new psychiatric syndrome. One of the many facets of the Christian Grey effect. Something likely to happen in the vicinity of tall, dark, handsome and tortured billionaires with painful pasts.

Gosh, I can still feel him inside me, I probably would all day. Other that, I am a quivering, disheveled mess, and I can only hope I look decent enough to make my way to the elevator, and from there to car downstairs.

 _Walk fast, look worried…_

 _Yes, sir._

Mmm, so that is, perhaps, how he does it? That´s easier that I could have imagined. I´ll keep that in mind, Mr. Grey. Although I should admit that I could not possibly walk fast considering my current predicament…

I laugh, still half-drunk with the excess endorphins released during our lovemaking in a clearing in the woods somewhere around Mount St. Helens. My legs feel like jelly, my knees are terribly unstable. No, strike all that out. Feel? No, I don't think I can even feel my legs right now. I think I'm actually floating, and the breeze would lift me up like a helium filled balloon if he only let go of my hand. Christian´s hand is my only link to the ground in more ways than one.

 _Subspaces… Mmm…_

I think I might be getting the hang of it!

It amazes me how he manages to look reasonably cool and composed after what we have done. He is so in control, unlike me, nearly impeccable, in spite of the just fucked hair and a few love marks in his neck. But his arrogant posture says it all, he radiates power and authority. Always.

 _Not fair._

He should be appearing just as out of balance as I am. It is weird, because I am sure – actually, I _know_ \- that was a novel experience for him as well. It´s only logical to conclude that if I was the first of his girlfriends to fly the helicopter, he obviously never had sex with anyone there either. I wish I could handle all of these firsts as easily as he does.

"Shhh," he tries to silence me. "That is not what I call looking worried, Miss Steele."

Hey, I´m deliriously happy, I want to tell him. I´m an ecstatic, just fucked mess right now, and not even his fifty shades of high-handedness are going to spoil this moment for me now. And so, instead of provoking him, I try to put on my best serious face. A confrontation with Christian when I am feeling like this is definitely not what I need. Honestly, I am not rational enough to fight against his crazy reasoning right now.

I am not sure my attempt at a serious face very effective. I try to mimic his signature frown, but I think I fail miserably – I´m a lousy actress.

"Is this inconspicuous enough for you, Mr. Grey?" I whisper back to him. He scowls, his eyes darkening to a granite grey. "Hey, I am merely trying not to look guilty." _Guilty, truly fucked and gloriously ravished._ I wanted to add that to my comment, but I decide against it.

"I think we are beyond that already," he is looking around us warily.

He is right. Dismayed, I pay attention to my surroundings for the first time since we landed. There are only a couple of people in the helipad, all of them his employees, but they are all staring curiously at us. Gosh, we look a mess – at least I do. He puts on his best arrogant demeanor and flashes them that mean glare of his and suddenly everyone is looking away pretending to be suddenly busy doing something else terribly important. I am familiar with the reaction by now, it makes me roll my eyes automatically.

Yup.

The Christian Grey effect. Another variation for Dr. Flynn to dissect for me one of these days.

 _How does he do that?_ Something tells me that it takes much more than walking fast and looking worried.

"You could tell them that we ran into some turbulence and had to land for a few moments," I suggest. Honestly, I just want him to keep talking so that I would focus on him and distract me from everything else while we made our way to the car downstairs.

"What turbulence? There isn´t a cloud in the sky, in case you haven´t noticed," he replied curtly. But then his voice softens. "Don´t worry, I don´t have to say anything to any of them. It´s how it works. They work on a need to know basis only. I don´t owe them any explanations."

Yes, I know. The NDA´s and all that stuff. However, Mr. Grey, you cannot stop people from thinking and wondering…

"I´m sorry, I am not sure how to act." I stand on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "I am not used to having mind blowing sex in helicopters Mr. Grey."

He misses a step, then stops walking and stares at me, his gaze burning me with its intensity.

"Fuck, Ana, do you think I am? A stunt like that could make me lose my license."

 _Oh._

He is right, of course. Not too long ago I remember reading in the newspaper about this crazy millionaire entrepeneur who landed his chopper on a California beach just to impress his new wife. The consequences of the reckless act were not very pleasant. And we had done more than just _landed,_ hadn´t we? Much more.

"Are you sorry we did it?"

"No." Incisive and to the point. Downright honest. I breathe in relief – he doesn´t regret it, at least.

He tightens his hold in my hand, crushing my fingers, stopping just when it was about to becoming painful.

Oh my.

 _Did I just do that to him?_

Yes, I did. I promptly get a standing ovation from my inner goddess. On the other hand, he looks lethal now, my Fifty Shades in all his glory. So big, so dark, so powerful, so dangerous, so… Yes, definitely all that, and more, so much more.

I want to jump on him again. I look around once more – probably not a good idea. The two men on the helipad were still pretending to have their attention elsewhere, but I had a feeling I knew better.

He senses my intent to lunge at him. Well, it should be quite obvious to a master in body language such as Christian Grey.

"Anastasia…" There it is, his best warning tone. I halt, as still as a statue.

"What?" I ask innocently.

"Don´t."

Of course I have this all figured out by now: Mr. Grey, the Dom calls me Anastasia, to Christian, the lover I'm Ana. He closes his eyes, and opens them again, as if he just changed his mind about something.

"Ana…"

 _There it is._

He smirks at me, his look softening – from my sometimes dominant to my lover in a split second.

"Fine, Mr. Grey. I´ll control my urges around you in public from now on."

 _But you´ll have to cooperate, of course._

"Mind blowing? Did I hear it well?"

 _That is not what I call cooperating, Mr. Grey… How am I supposed to control my carnal urges around you if you keep tempting me like this?_

He is still talking.

"It is not that my ego needs the reassurance right now, but it is always nice to hear that."

 _Mr. Megalomaniac…_

"Yeah. I think my IQ dropped about 30 points this morning because of all the adrenaline and the endorphin's overdose. I wonder if I´ll ever recover."

"Yes, you know you will…". He touches the tip of my right ear lightly. The simplest of gestures, but always more than enough to rouse the butterflies in my stomach again.

"What?"

"You lost one of your earrings."

I touch my ear, following his gesture. Our fingers brush.

"Oh no. I did? Why doesn´t that surprise me," I say, as we resume our short walk towards the elevator, the wind ruffling our already messed up hair. I loved those earrings, but I can´t bring myself to feel sorry for the loss of one of them. It was worth it.

I walk with as much dignity as I can possibly manage under the circumstances, trying to get those butterflies settled, but it is not easy to do that when half an hour ago your boyfriend landed his helicopter in the middle of nowhere just to have sex with you; ripped your underwear from your body leaving your garter belt in tatters around your thighs; when your nylons have a hole the size of Seattle on your left knee where you banged it against the helicopter stick in a moment of passion; the whereabouts of one of your silver and mother of pearl earrings are unknown; and, to add to all of that, a not so gentle breeze is blowing under your skirt, hitting areas of your anatomy that, let us face it, should _never_ be unprotected in public.

 _This has happened before,_ I remember. I´ve been pantyless with him in public in other places and occasions, all of them memorable. In a restaurant. The first time in his parents´ house. But this time beat the record: in a helipad on top of a building in Portland, Oregon, after _having sex in a helicopter_. It didn´t matter that we were on the ground at the time. It still counted as _sex in a helicopter._

I cannot get the idea out of my mind. I bet Jane Eyre has faced similar circumstances. Not even a modern Alec D´Uberville would think about doing that to poor Tess… well, maybe he would. Briefly, I wondered what would my best friend say about this if I ever had the guts to tell her. This one item would certainly put the entire list of unusual places in which Kate Kavanaugh had sex to shame.

I lost one of my favorite earrings. My ripped, ridiculously expensive lace panties from some pretentious top European designer I had never heard of until three months ago are now on the floor of…

 _Oh God, what if someone… anyone… found them?_ Did anyone dust Charlie Tango between one run and the next?

 _Crap!_

"Christian!" I hiss – we are now alone in the elevator that would take us down from the helipad. "Oh my gosh, my panties!"

"Your panties? What about them, baby?"

"I forgot to pick them up. What if someone…"

"Don´t worry, I got them," he says, squeezing my hand again. "Back pocket."

 _The ever-efficient Mr. Grey. He thinks of everything, doesn´t he?_

"Thank you," I murmur, leaning my head against his shoulder. "Can I have them back, please?"

" _Why?_ "

"I want so see if I can salvage them. Mend them or something." I then lower my voice, adopting a sexy tone I have developed since I met him – I never knew I had that kind of thing in me before. "Or, I just wanted to keep them as a souvenir of this momentous occasion, Mr. Grey. Evidence, if you will."

His breath catches.

"Ana…"

"Yes?"

"I think your panties are beyond salvation now. They are shredded. I´ll get you another pair…"

 _Of course he will._ I roll my eyes.

"What the hell are you doing?" He stops cold when he realizes that I had reached for my hopelessly torn panties in the right back pocket of his jeans.

"I still want the souvenir. Besides, I am not letting you torture me all day with these today, _sir._ " I say, waving the panties right in front of his perfectly sculpted nose.

He grabs my wrist.

"Put those away. There are cameras in here."

Oh. Oops!

For once, I obey him instantly, tucking the panties inside my purse, though I have a feeling we might be beyond redemption to whoever is watching right now…

"But how could I possibly torture you with that little thing, Miss Steele?"

"Your imagination knows no boundaries, Mr. Grey. You´d find a way, I´m sure."

We arrive at the Heathman scarcely fifteen minutes later, and we go straight to our suite. He wastes no time, it takes him no more than ten minutes to get into that full CEO mode of his, while my wits are still scattered somewhere between Seattle and Portland. And he still has time to scribble some notes – last minute thoughts, he explains, leaving over the desk and writing something down with that very intense look in his face.

All I can do is just gawk at him and watch. Because watching Christian Grey dress is a pleasure that is only second to watch him undress.

Gosh, I had sex in a helicopter!

And three months ago I was a freaking virgin who could not tell an orgasm from a hiccup.

He chooses a dark navy suit for today. That is undoubtedly one of his colors, it looks great on him. It brings out those ever changing bluish-gray shades in his eyes. I help him with the knot of his grey tie. My hands shake a little, as I ogle him some more, shamelessly.

Gosh, when is this going to stop?

Sometimes I wonder, if by any chance we are still together when we are in our sixties, if he will still have this same devastating effect upon my senses. It doesn´t feel right now that it is something that is ever going to end. I wonder if he will still take full advantage of it as he does nowadays. Well, I am the one who is planning to take full advantage of it right now.

Giving in to temptation, I grab his tie and pull him to me. A little cliché, but that will now be added to my growing list of moves to turn the tables on him. I catch him by surprise, which is something that is never easy to do (but also something I am getting better at lately), but he still attempts that old defensive gesture of his and makes a motion to grab my wrists before I can touch him. I let him. Briefly, I wonder what would happen if one of his fifteen submissives tried a move like that on him. I wonder if they even dared as much. I wonder about the consequences, what their punishment would be. I have no idea and I have no wish to find out about _that_ right now… Well, maybe I have, a little.

He takes back control and pushes me until my back is against the nearest wall where he stages a repeat of our unforgettable first kiss not so long ago, in this same hotel, at the elevator. Only hotter. And longer. After that no-holds-barred kiss that nearly reduces me again to a melting puddle on the floor, he leaves.

"Laters, baby." And he winks at me.

 _Mr. I´m Sexy And I Know It._

I´m a lost case!

After a badly needed shower, my energies are renewed to start working, and I know I´ll do so with the most ridiculous grin in my face all the time. How many girls out there could say that they had a boyfriend who would land his chopper in the middle of nowhere only to make love to her?

The answer comes quickly.

None.

 _Oh Fifty!_

It is still early, barely 9 am, and I can´t believe how fast paced was my day so far. So much has happened…

I glance at the desk, and I see them – the notes he wrote hastily just before leaving. He really was in a hurry. I pick the paper up and tried to read his bold handwriting – lots of abbreviations, almost as if in a code. His own brand of cryptography, perhaps. Whatever it is, I can´t decipher, but it looks important to me. So, I quickly take a picture and send to him.

A: _You forgot those, Mr. Grey. An oversight, perhaps? Am I distracting you too much?_

 _C: Thank you, Anastasia. You are always a welcome distraction, by the way. Very efficient of you, this will be helpful to me later. Would you like to be my PA?_

I don´t even have to think to hard to answer that one.

 _A: Nope._

 _C: Are you sure? I´ll triple your salary._

 _A: Still a no. Andrea needs her job. Besides, we´d be at each other´s throat in a couple of hours._

 _C: Not a problem, Miss Steele. I´ll build a red room of pain next to my office to deal with your bouts of insubordination…_

I laugh, although the idea is intriguing. The man is impossible! But then I remember, if he landed Charlie Tango only to make love to me, he is really capable of anything!

 _A: Texting and driving, Mr. Grey? Is that SAFE?_

Well, he asked for it. Capital letters and all.

 _C: FYI, Taylor is driving me now, madam. I´m good. Now go back to work._

I reply with a wink and a smile. He really never let go of his Dom persona for more than a second. He´s so bossy! Should I tell him that I was going to start working, but was distracted by his forgotten notes.

I try to follow Christian´s example, I do my best to channel a little of his laser focus. If I am lucky, I´ll manage to be done with all the work that I have until my appointment downstairs with Professor Frazier. Allie, as she likes her students to call her. I want to ask a few things about WSU graduate program in English Literature, since I plan to get a master´s degree, and, who knows, a PhD after that. Yes, I´ll be able to do all my work, go to my meeting and still be able to read a little more about a certain newly discovered Japanese art form involving ropes and bondage. But right now I don´t even want to think about that – it would completely spoil my concentration.

As the minutes pass, I realize how well I am doing, good enough for a two-thumbs up from my inner goddess. I´m so proud of my efficiency, and I can´t wait to tell my business minded boyfriend all about it. I kept in touch with SIP all the time, exchanging feedbacks and information. Three more books are emailed to me in electronic format, and I know that the first drafts will be waiting for me on my desk tomorrow. Two _whodunits –_ those are always fun. The third one is a historical romance novel with – and my eyes widen when I have to read the words at least twice – _light_ BDSM elements.

 _Oh goodie._

Well, truthfully, in my very limited experience, there is never anything _light_ about BDSM. It is always dark and intense to me, no matter how little pain is involved. But I don´t want to go there now. Well, as long as the author does a good job with the plot and the historical setting, it might be considered for publication, although, at first glance, it might not be SIP material, since we target a different kind of audience. I decide I´ll have a quick look later, anyway. The mystery novels, on the other hand, I can deal it easily without losing my already fragile focus.

Christian was right, it is almost as if I am physically there in my office, only better because there were fewer distractions. I should definitely be less conservative and start making more use of technology in my job. There is so much that he can teach me about this stuff, and I must learn to put my pride aside and let him do that, listen to his advice when he offers and ask it when I can. It pleases him, I can tell, and it will help me with my career. It is what he does best, after all.

Well, maybe the _second_ thing he does best, because I can still feel the effects of the _first_ thing he does best in my nether areas.

Yes, most definitely the second thing.

But then, around noon, my stomach churns, reminding me that I hadn´t eaten since before 5 am back in Seattle. After the strenuous activity during our improvised twenty-minute landing half way to Portland, my body is demanding some serious nourishment. I pick up the phone and order something for lunch, wondering how long it will be until one or two of Christian´s fifty shades kick in and he messages me reminding me that I should eat.

While I wait, I stretch and look down my legs. I'm wearing his tee-shirt - the same one he was wearing while flying Charlie Tango -, plain cotton panties and nothing else… It has that Christian Grey smell. For the first time, I notice that there is an ugly bruise on the side of my left knee, where it bumped against the helicopter's stick.

Ouch!

I wince as I touch it. It doesn't matter that Christian hasn't caused it, that it wasn´t his fault at all, it is the kind of thing that can potentially torture and torment him. I must remember to stop by a drugstore and get something to rub on it – I would have to do that before I met Professor Frazier downstairs.

Now I should return to Earth and make an effort to look decent before my food arrives. I dig out my old jeans from my overnight bag, and I barely have time to pull them up when my lunch arrives, delivered by the ridiculously efficient staff of the Heathman Hotel. The girl addresses me _Mrs. Grey_ – I giggle, and for some reason I don´t have the heart to correct her. It _does_ have a nice ring to it. My inner goddess´s glare turns dangerous, and I instantly block any further thoughts about that matter.

There is also something else for me other than the lunch tray. Another delivery, this one not ordered by me. A blue package.

 _Tiffany_ blue.

 _Christian._

There is a note written in one of his plain cards, just a few simple words.

 _To replace what you lost._

Puzzling? Is Tiffany selling lingerie too nowadays? I have no idea. On the other hand, the box is suspiciously small…

I open it and gasp at the most beautiful diamond studs that I have ever seen. The stones were not large, quite the contrary, they were tiny, but the sunlight coming through an open window made them glitter furiously in a rainbow of colors. It is exactly the kind of thing that I would have picked for myself if I had that kind of money, and Christian knows it now. Sometimes I think that he knows my likes and dislikes better than I do myself. He knows, for instance, how much I loather big flashy jewelry. I thought about the silver and mother of pearl earring that was lost – I had bought them from a hippie on campus only a few days before that fateful interview in Seattle. I loved them, I thought that the iridescence of the mother of pearl details was kind of magic, but these… I wonder when did he find the time to do get them for me, it looks like the kind of thoughtful gift that has to be bought personally. Even if he delegated the task to someone – which I am sure he has, considering all the has scheduled for today – he must have to have found the time to give detailed instructions who had to be precisely met, because that was how he operated. That he had found the time in the middle of one of his most hectic days to do this for me was something that was enough to move me to tears.

 _Oh Fifty!_

This is when I start to seriously miss him. His absence hits me with an almost cruel force. Tears fall from my eyes, I have no control of them. I haven´t cried in ages, not since... It is just too much all of a sudden. But this is a different kind of crying. It´s bittersweet.

I miss him. I miss him so much it hurts.

I message him.

 _Thank you. I love you._

Wearily, I glance at my watch, I realize that he must be in the middle of another business meeting. He doesn´t reply, I didn´t expect him to right now. But wherever he is, I hope that brings a smile to his much too serious face. He's there, feeding the world and now healing it, one friendly takeover at a time, and I'm here, a sobbing mess, writing about an obscure science fiction author who writes about multiple universes and subspaces…

 _Subspaces!_

And then, I completely lose my focus. I become a lost came.

My thoughts are all back to him, he is all I see in my mind. Christian and his uncanny ability to make love to me with his words and his eyes without touching my body. His intensity, his larger than life, commanding presence. His face and that knowing smirk when he looks at me across a crowded room, and I instantly know that he is thinking about what he'll do to me as soon as we are alone. His hands and where they have been the last time we were alone. His body. Oh no, don't even get me started on Christian Grey's body.

His smell…

The tee shirt helped with that, the feel of him around me helped me to regain my focus. I am not returning this tee shirt to him. _Ever!_

I don't know why that is, why it's so _hard_ all of a sudden. Perhaps because we have not been apart for more than five minutes since Friday night. Perhaps because we are so close now that we've become indistinguishable from one another when we are together. It comforts me that I know that if he ever allows himself only a moment of distraction during his work - which, knowing him as well as I do, I know he probably won´t - he will probably feel this same absurd, horrible, gut wrenching ache. But he has that work in his favor to distract him, he has his _uber_ important business meetings – the fact that he doesn´t reply me at once tells me I´m right about that. I am realistic enough to recognize that if I am Christian Grey´s lover, work is his mistress. I'm glad – he wouldn't have been able to function in life without it, he would have been beyond any kind of redemption when I found him and I would be blinded by the wonderful man he is, the man I fell in love with. One of these days I will have to ask him how he does it, how he seems to compartmentalize everything in that brilliant brain of his, his business mind, his lover's mind and – the most dangerous and intriguing of all, his dominant side.

But that is for another day.

Today I must find a way out of this crazy momentary depression. It's so pathetic. I shouldn't be this way, it is not how I was brought up to be. I descend from a long line of proud, independent women. One of them was a freaking suffragette, I grew up hearing my mother telling stories about her. And yet here I am, missing my boyfriend like the air I breathe, nearly four hours after he left me.

Four. Hours.

My inner goddess, just returning from her long vacation in Hawaii, is rolling her eyes in desperation. I am almost delusional enough to hear Kate's voice in my ear.

 _Girl, you got it bad!_

I am overcome by more deep thoughts as I start eating my lunch. I barely taste the delicious food, although I am hungry. If I were brave enough, I would make an appointment with Dr. Flynn and try to sort this out, but the idea of discussing such intimate details of my life absolutely mortifies me. I barely manage to do that with Kate, when she bullies me into it.

My phone pings just as I finish my salad and drink the last sip of my wine. I reach for it quickly, knocking down a glass of water in the process. My hands shake a little, even as I chastise myself for my eternal clumsiness. The message isn´t from Christian. It is from Kate. I love her, but I am a little disappointed right now.

 _K: Where R U? Can I come by and see you? Miss you!_

I decide to pour my heart out. I need to vent about this. It's probably the longest text message I've ever written.

 _A: Yes, if you are in Portland. I'm here with Christian. He's in some ridiculously important meeting now. I'm at the hotel, working my butt off because of a presentation I have at SIP tomorrow. He's been gone for three hours and fifty three minutes, and I miss him like hell._

 _K: You've got it so bad…_

 _A: Wearing his tee-shirt because it smells like him. How pathetic am I?_

 _K: That´s what I call an emergency. In Seattle now, can´t go and see you, but can I call?_

 _A: Please do._

Kate starts talking the moment I answer my phone.

"Who are you and what have you done to my level-headed, rational friend Ana Steele?" I pull the phone away from my face and stare at it as she keeps talking. "The one with a sensible head on her shoulders and two feet firmly planted on the ground as far as men are concerned? The one who didn´t understand how anyone with an average IQ could be attracted to - and I quote – "sort of human" who is Christian Grey? The…"

"Hi Kate!" I interrupt her loquacious monologue.

"Hi! Sorry, I got carried away there. Seriously, Steele, you drive me nuts sometimes. How are you?"

"Mmm…"

I mumble some unintelligible answer. Kate has been through some rough days only last week, and all of a sudden I feel embarrassed that I was about to bother her and start weeping on the phone because of momentary regression to my early adolescence years. Even if there had been countless times when our roles were reversed and she has done that same kind of thing to me.

"Cheer up now. Listen, I´m calling to tell you that I'm planning a girl´s night next week. You know, we´ll get seriously drunk and talk about the men in your lives – one man, in your case. How about that?"

"Sounds great, Kate. Actually, it´s exactly what I need too. When?"

"Not this Thursday, the next one."

 _Next Thursday? Eleven days in the future? Bummer! I need it now…_

"Can you make it? I need it badly, and I don´t have to tell you why."

Yes, I knew all about it. We didn´t have a chance to talk when she and Elliot came for drinks on Sunday, but I could tell from the look in her eyes that she was still a little upset. What happened was that the mighty Kate Kavanaugh, the queen of safe and responsible sex, had been through a pregnancy scare last week. It was a combination of factors, she told me. Her doctor had ordered her to stop taking her pills for a while, and in the meantime a stupid condom broke… It had been the first time in our long friendship that I've seen her in a state of panic. It had not been pretty.

"Are you all right? Still shaken up? Tell me, Kate, I´m worried. There was no chance for us to talk last Saturday."

"I know. But I´m getting there, Steele. Getting there. So, I finally had the guts to tell Elliot today."

"You did?" I sat down. I know Kate well, this could be bad. "How did he take it?"

"Like a champ." I breathe in relief. "He freaked out at first, but then he was very sweet about it. We'll be ok. And I felt so much better afterwards."

"It´s good to know that, Kate. I said before that it wouldn´t do any good to hide this from him."

"Can you believe that he was more worried about what Christian would think than anything else? He wasn´t concerned about his parents at all, but he was afraid of what his kid brother would say, can you believe that?"

I giggle. "That I can believe. Did he tell Christian?"

"Not yet, but I´m sure he will at some point. He tells him everything. Unlike some people," she hinted to me.

"What are you talking about, I tell you everything, Kate." I frown, hoping I wounded convincing. There was no way in hell I could tell her _everything._

"Humm. We´ll see about that some other time. In the meantime, I still can use the distraction. Are you in or not?"

"Yes, I´m definitely in! It´s the perfect timing, actually. Christian will be leaving for Switzerland on Sunday morning, he'll be gone all week, I'll be by myself for a few days. I mean, I have lots of work to do from nine to five to keep me busy, but after that…"

T he thought makes me sad again. I am not looking forward to next week. It will be the first time we'll be apart since our near break up. He invited me to come along, but I simply cannot. There are simply too many important things happening at SIP lately.

God, that will be bad. I must find a way to gather myself together. If I'm like this with him gone for a few hours, how will it be after a week?

"I know, it will be depressing, but that is what I am here for. Why aren't you going with him, anyway? Switzerland is so cool!"

"He asked me to, but I can´t. There is this new author I am trying to bring to SIP, he´s amazing. I am really working hard to have two of his books published and next week will be crucial."

"Boyce Fox? Don´t tell me there are more of his books coming. I´m reading the one you gave me, he´s fantastic."

"No, this is another new one. Science fiction this time."

"Wow! That is a new genre for you, isn´t it? You were always a Jane Austen kind of girl."

"You know me, Kate, I´ll read anything as long as the author gives me a good story. And this guy is good. Very good. I´ll get you an advanced copy when I have it."

"Oh, I almost forgot. I am inviting Mia too. What do you think?"

"I think it´s great, Kate. I love Mia!"

"Good. We´re going to this trendy little new place Elliot heard about. It´s for members only, but there is some kind of event going on that Thursday so they are having an open house kind of thing. Very exclusive, extremely high class and very mysterious, but my man thinks he can get us in. He has his connections, you know. He feels so bad about that broken condom, I think it is another one of his sweet ways to make up for it. You know those Grey brothers… They´re are a handful, but oh, so sexy and protective and adorable! I wonder if it is something that Grace put in their food while they were growing up."

I didn´t want to tell you that I had a feeling Christian would not be so understanding if the same happened to us.

"What is Christian up to today?"

I know so little, but I still don´t feel comfortable telling her about it.

"You know, mergers, acquisitions, that kind of thing. It´s his world and he loves it. Whatever it is, I am sure we´ll read in the financial pages tomorrow."

"Sounds important!"

"It is. It´s all I know, Kate. He was stressed enough about it."

My phone pings again. My instincts tell me it´s Christian this time.

"Kate, it´s him, I´ve got to go."

"All right, honey. You go now. I don´t want to keep you away from your lord and master another minute," she laughs.

 _Whaaat?_

"I´m just kidding, of course. I´ll keep you posted about our girl´s night, OK?"

"OK, thanks."

"Have a safe trip back to Seattle! And don´t let Grey boss you around too much…"

"I´ll do my best. Bye, Kate.

But my eyes were already glued to the message flashing in my screen.

 _C: Anastasia, did you eat?_

How he manages to sound imperious with three texted words is beyond me!

 _A: Hello to you to,_ sir _!_

Lord and master my ass!

 _C: How are you, baby?_

 _A: That's better. I'm OK. Nearly done with work. Doing an amazing job and proud of it._

 _C: Good. You´ll tell me all about it tonight._

 _A: Where are you?_

 _C: Boardroom at the Vedius headquarters._

Multitasking.

Another item in the list of things he does best. Negotiating billion dollar contracts and texting his girlfriend at the same time. Only Christian Grey Could do it. The man could probably sit on a table with Mark Zuckerberg, Jeff Bezos and Steve Jobs and discuss the newest trends in information technology, negotiate billion dollar contracts and text me at the same time. Yes, I know I´m exaggerating, but if there is anyone out there who can do that, it´s him. I knew he could do it if that is what he wanted to do.

 _C: No ill effects after this morning?_

I glance down at my bruised knee.

 _A: I'm fine._

Gosh, I really hope he is not meaning to inquire me about other more intimate aches and pains, so I keep typing without pause.

 _A: I love the earrings. Loved them more than I can say. Wearing them right now._

 _C: Good. That makes me happy._

 _A: Don't think I'll ever take them off. Wearing your tee shirt too._

 _C: That makes me even happier._

 _A: You didn´t have to._

 _C: Yes, I did. My fault you lost yours._

Mine cost ten dollars. The ones I had on right now cost… I really didn´t want to ponder too much about it. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss. I´ll just enjoy his gift for what it is.

Another message flashes immediately. I can almost sense his growing impatience.

 _C: Did you? Eat?_

 _A: Had a salad._

 _C: You had a fucking salad? I don´t call that proper nourishment, Miss Steele._

Oops! We´re back to all his Fifty Shades again.

Here we go… This will be another long one.

 _A: It´s healthy food, Mr. Grey. But you didn´t let me finish, it was one of those big ones with everything thrown in, croutons included. I had a glass of wine to go with it. Stow away your twitch palms, I got all my vitamins from all food groups and quite a few extra calories to replace those I lost this morning. You´d be proud of me. I´m good._

 _C: Happy to know that._

 _A: I went crazy with desert, though._

 _C: How crazy, Miss Steele?_

I sigh.

 _A: Since we did it almost on top of Mount Saint Helens I thought lava cake would be an obvious choice. Rich dark chocolate with vanilla ice cream on the side. Fond memories._

 _C: Have pity on a starving man, Anastasia. You´re killing me here._

 _A: Didn´t you have your lunch?_

 _C: Technically._

 _A: And how is work? Have you tamed the mighty god Vedius yet?_

 _C: Doing good, Miss Steele. Doing good._

 _A: Excellent, Mr. Grey._

 _C: Are you planning to do some more work after lunch?_

 _A: I might. This subspace thing is so fascinating._

 _C: Always pleased to know that._

 _A: Science fiction. I thought you kept a hold on to your perverted mind during office hours._

 _C: Not when I am bored out of my wits, Miss Steele. Right now I have this mental image of you eating lava cake with vanilla ice cream wearing nothing but your brand new earrings._

 _A: … and your tee-shirt._

 _C: No, just the earrings. My fantasy, my rules, Miss Steele._

 _A: Good for you, Mr. Grey._

 _C: Gotta go now. Getting a couple of funny looks here._

 _A: You know what to do. Walk fast and look worried._

 _C: Love you!_

 _A: Right back at you, Grey._

 _C: Laters._

 _A: Laters, baby._

I put the phone away. It´s one in the afternoon, I still have three hours to myself before my meeting down in the tea room. Another hour and a half passes, and I am officially done with my work, having reached the point where if I edit my presentation any further, I will spoil it. It´s perfect as it is.

I twiddle my thumbs, unsure of what to do. On a whim, I decide to change and go downstairs for a walk.

I stopped at a drugstore and bought some balm for my bruised knee. After that, I end up wandering about some old familiar places. My neighborhood. I looked up to the windows of my old apartment, and noticed that there was someone else living there. I wondered if she was another dreamy college student like me, and what would her fate be.

Will she be drafted for an interview for the school paper and meet a Christian Grey of her own?

Will he be as haunted as my Fifty Shades?

Will she stay or will she run from him?

Will she be strong enough to hold on to him?

Will she love him?

I felt the strange urge to go up there and hug that unknown girl who occupied my apartment now. No, not her, but myself, the Anastasia Steele I was only six months ago…

With that thought, I made my way back to the Heathman Hotel.

 **Two final notes:**

 _ **1.**_

 _ **The helicopter scene will be posted later, as a one shot, after I am done with this story. It was written in Christian´s POV, but I think I can improve on it a great deal. The current version is in my Wattpad account, if anyone is too curious.**_

 _ **2.**_

 _ **It is always good to remind you that I´m working without a beta at the moment. I didn´t have a lot of time to edit this one, so there might, just might, be more mistakes. If you do notice anything that bothers you – either spelling or grammar - please let me know. I will appreciate it.**_

 _ **Thanks you for reading**_


	6. Chapter 6

**See previous chapters for the usual disclaimers. The point is always the same - I do not own anything!**

 **Thank you all for reviewing!**

 **We are back to Christian´s POV. This was another very long chapter in my original version, I decided to split it in two, so you´ll have the next one soon. Still trying to add a few more dimensions to those beloved characters...**

 **As usual, please be patient with me. I work without a beta, so mistakes are likely to happen, although I do my best to avoid them.**

 **Have fun! That is the point of fan fiction, isn´t it?**

 **Chapter 06**

 ** _"Light up, light up_**

 ** _As if you have a choice,_**

 ** _Even if you cannot hear my voice_**

 ** _I'll be right beside you dear…_**

 ** _Louder, louder_**

 ** _And we'll run for our lives,_**

 ** _I can hardly speak I understand_**

 ** _Why you can't raise your voice to say…"_**

 ** _Snow Patrol, Run_**

I´m overwrought, after two exhausting meetings - three if I count the conversations we carried during lunch in an awfully pretentious French restaurant. My mind is tied up in knots after switching continuously from English to French and then some Italian all day, and there was a point when I hardly knew in which language I was speaking.

In the middle of all that, I still manage to squeeze in five minutes to see the guy from Tiffany´s about some earrings for Anastasia, to replace the ones she lost during our unscheduled change in Charlie Tango´s flight plan earlier today. They bring me a selection of pieces that met my requirements: the purest diamonds they could find – flawless and with no inclusions, I didn´t care about the cost. The selection in the tray before me is exquisite, I am not disappointed. Mentally I thank my father who, not long ago, convinced me to invest in a diamond mine in South Africa. Since I don´t believe in investing in anything without knowing what I will be working with, I ended up learning a lot about those stones in the process. I have already noticed that Ana's taste tends to be very discreet and understated, but I wish I could cover her with diamonds today. It´s a little frustrating, but this is for her, not for me.

 _Anastasia Steele´s exquisite body dressed in nothing but diamonds of every imaginable size and color… Suspended by ropes from the ceiling, diamonds trickling down her breasts, her belly and lower still… Much lower…_

I smile wickedly. Not a bad fantasy at the practical aspects, and without even have to do any mental calculations, it would probably cost me what I make in a few months of work, maybe one year, but it would be totally worth it. Oh, so fucking worth it!

 _Maybe I can try this one small stone at a time. After all, Rome wasn´t built in a day!_

With that thought in mind, I am ready to make my choice considering her taste, and not what I wanted for her. I´ll save the nice little fantasy for some other day in the future. A first-year anniversary perhaps? Not a bad idea – that is, if I can wait that long.

That charlatan Flynn would be proud! Controlling my own urges to be a controlling bastard. I always thought this was somewhat a paradox, but hey, he´s the fucking expert!

I scan the glittering display and quickly with my eyes and make my choice. It doesn´t take too long, my eyes are drawn to it almost instantly.

Five minutes, that is all it takes, and the blue-green package was on its way to the Heathman, to be delivered with Ana´s lunch tray – if she indeed orders something to eat, she promised me she would. I wish I could deliver it personally but I don't have that choice right now. I wish I could see the look in her eyes when she opens it.

Fucking duty calls!

She wouldn´t know, of course, that the earrings cost more than the sum of every other gift I ever have her – that is how pure and flawless the small twin gems I chose for were. I decide that I´ll keep that bit of info for myself for the moment. I´ll tell her someday – maybe.

After I deal with Ana´s gift, however, I find myself in a black mood. _Again_. I´m exhausted and hungry as hell, and not even the fact that I am a few hundred million dollars richer and completely able to afford _literally_ showering Ana with diamonds helps me improve my disposition right now. Vedius Pharma´s top executives are some of the toughest negotiators I´ve ever dealt with, but a takeover is always a takeover, even a friendly one such as this one, where all boards of directors involved are more or less in agreement with the more important details. I had to be always on alert in order to avoid any possible traps. The truth is that no self-respecting businessman likes to let go of a company he built from scratch – I know I wouldn´t, no matter how substantial the profit was.

But now it appears we are done.

I am done.

My spirits lift a little, knowing that in a matter of minutes I will be able to breathe that huge sigh of relief that comes at the end of every difficult deal. The final contracts are being signed, only minor details are being negotiated. Across from me at the table are the three brothers who co-founded the company. Three men in their seventies, belonging to the old French aristocracy. Conservative and eccentric, with bloodlines that can be traced centuries before the French revolution. The contrast between their ancestry and my own couldn´t be more staggering…

 _Christian fucking Grey with his borrowed surname, a crack whore of a mother and a "father unknown" in the original birth certificate._

When I first approached the three musketeers, as Roz calls them, and made the first offer to buy their company, they told me they wanted nothing else than to retire and live in peace and seclusion dividing their time between their Chateaux in the Loire valley, a villa at the Côte d´Azur and another one in the Alps. Their children and grandchildren either had no interest in the company, or no brains to run it, but they still wanted it to continue prospering. My plan had to make their wish come true, and more. Right now, I am one signature away from making that possible.

The oldest brother is now about to sign, his black and gold Montblanc pen poised over the paper. He pauses and frowns.

 _What the hell is that?_

I do not like the look on his face or his body language at all. I hardly breathe, fighting to keep my face impassive.

 _Shit, this is no good._

"Monsieur Cardevac, is there a problem?" Roz asks in her flawless French. "Are you feeling well, sir?"

The whole room is now tense. No, not the whole room, only my team is tense. The other two brothers glanced at each other, and I detected a slight glimmer of mischief.

"I´m not sure…" the man said in English, his accent thick.

"Yes?" Roz insisted.

He drops his pen. Then he looks up at me. A stupid staring context follows for a long minute. I do not back down, and neither does he.

 _This is really no good!_

"I am not certain that I am doing the right think handling my family´s company and my life work to – how is it that they call you, Mr. Grey?" Cold sweat starts running down my back. "Aah - Seattle´s most eligible bachelor."

 _Fuck!_

 _Of all the…_

 _Not now!_

Since the beginning, I always had in mind that this was one of the situations where if the slightest rumor about my lifestyle or my past reached the ears of those conservative moguls, the deal would be lost to me. Taking a deep breath, I decide to take whatever happens today as another lesson, and as a warning not to let my guard down _ever_ and to be always on alert against the possibility of an exposé. At this point, I am not sure yet about what is coming, it may not even be a close call, it may have anything to do with my debauched past, but it is enough to make me slightly uncomfortable. I am prepared for battle. I fucking want this deal!

It´s easier said than done however, even in my years of experience in tough negotiations like these. I thought I was about to go through those famous five stages of grief, but I paused in the second one a little longer.

Anger.

 _Why did the old devil wait so fucking long? Couldn´t he gave said that in the first meeting and waste my valuable time like this?_

 _Why now?_

I know the answer to that, of course – I call it a last-minute diversion. It happens when one of the parties involved wants to get more out of a deal and wait for the last possible moment to make an uncomfortable argument or bring a new fact, hoping that they will get a better offer. If the Frenchmen do want more out of the deal, more money, I will even be willing to grant that to them if that is what it takes to make this work. The sky is the limit as far as the closing the Vedius deal for me - but of course I am not telling them that.

 _I want this._

I stare at them challengingly. They don´t have any idea who they are dealing with. Frankly, it is insulting. I´m fuming, but I keep my face expressionless. I do not dare to do as much as blink. Any gesture could be interpreted as a giveaway but those vultures.

And it doesn´t end there.

To make his point, the second brother digs out some tabloid from his briefcase and with a theatrical gesture, he throws it on the table.

I have to roll my eyes.

Seriously? Talk about amateurish tactics. This was so ridiculous, it was laughable.

I raise an eyebrow.

I barely look at it, only enough to see that there is a picture of Anastasia and me, I have my arms wrapped around her and my face partially hidden by her wind- blown hair. She is laughing. It is not a bad picture, I would gladly buy it from the photographer only for that look of happiness he captured in Ana´s face. But then I read the ridiculous headline about Christian Grey leaving his secret bachelor pad in downtown Seattle with his latest fling.

I see red. I can deal with whatever they throw me about all the shit in my past, but Anastasia is another matter entirely… I would give my right arm to protect her from all that shit that comes with money and fame. I feel that little vein in my temple throbbing.

 _No._

In theory, the intimate details of a man´s private life should not make any difference on how a man conducts his business, but, realistically, that is now how the business world operates, and, to some people it still makes all the difference. Let me just say that such things can and will be used against you at any time. It´s just another reason why I always work hard to keep my private lifestyle a fucking secret!

That is what I want to tell them to do. To fuck themselves.

"Christian…"

Roz starts to speak, meaning to defend me, but I silence her with a gesture. I like to fight my own battles, even though I lack the same impeccable diplomacy skills that my second in command has. But I shall try. This is too important to me.

"First of all, the _bachelor pad_ in the picture is my brother´s apartment in downtown Seattle." It was _Elliot_ 'sbachelor pad, incidentally, but naturally I do not mention that particular detail. "Elliot Grey, the architect. You know him, gentlemen, he is the one who designed the offices of the Vedius American headquarters here in Portland. This building, as a matter of fact."

My voice is even, and icy cold. Steely. They sensed it immediately – the top three executives at the opposite end of the table pale, all three of them. I just keep going. This will be so fucking sweet. I lean back in my chair, relaxing, savoring the moment, while throwing them a wolfish grin.

"Secondly, your people should have investigated this a little further. If they had, you would know not only that I was leaving my brother´s apartment after a visit, but what the photograph doesn´t show are my parents walking right behind us." One of the brothers takes of his glasses and starts rubbing his eyes. Good. "Most importantly, a reasonably competent team of investigators would also tell you that the name of the beautiful woman who is smiling me is Miss Anastasia Rose Steele. Trust me when I say that her intellect matches her beauty and I deeply resent any attempt to vilify her character because, oh well, you see, not that it´s anybody´s business, but yes, we are in a committed relationship."

I still detect some dubious glances, so, in a dramatic gesture of my own I pull out my wallet, and show them two pictures of Ana I always carry with me: our very first one, taken during her graduation, and one of the set taken by the photographer I particularly liked.

"There." I take a deep breath. "I don´t know any eligible bachelor who keeps pictures of his latest one night stand in his wallet, do you?"

Oh well, as evidence, it is weak, but it is all I have at the moment.

 _Now pick up that fucking pen and sign that fucking deal!_ – I want to yell in anger.

Roz looks at me encouragingly – she is actually biting her lips in order not to smile. The boardroom is silent, no one says a word – enough to tell me that they are not 100% convinced yet. Then she says pointedly.

"Gentlemen, please keep in mind that Mr. Grey´s unmarried status never kept him from building a Fortune 500 company from scratch. You should all remember that."

Before she utters the final world, the older Cardevac is already signing. I work hard not to let my relief show in my face.

After this, it will all smooth sailing!

Just another example of the kind of shit I have to deal with in a daily basis because of my age or speculations about my sexual status. In the end, I think I can call it a success.

Yes, it will be an interesting day for the stock market tomorrow.

It´s about 5 pm when I am finally back to the Heathman. Not even one hour after the near catastrophe at the Vedius headquarters. Now I need food, a hot shower and Anastasia. Ana first and foremost, if possible. Then the hot shower – with Ana. Finally, the food – I don´t know how I would come up with that yet, but it would certainly involve Ana.

Miss Steele, her priceless new diamond studs and nothing else.

But then I curse, as I remember the carefully designed scene.

The buildup, the journey before the destination.

Clayton´s.

I brought her here because of that, I can´t back down now. It is a matter of priorities. Not to mention _discipline._

Well, there it is again – that delayed gratification shit. It looks like I am acquiring a taste for it.

I inquire in the reception about Anastasia - they tell me she is still in the tea room with Professor Alexandra Frazier. Once I´m there, I stop at the door for a moment.

They are deeply engrossed in conversation. Anastasia sits demurely next to the woman, gesticulating vividly, as she usually does whenever she talks about anything she is very passionate about.

 _I know the feeling, baby. Exhilarating, isn´t it?_

It is a joy just to watch her, and frankly, if anyone is looking at me right now, they must think I´m some kind of lovesick puppy.

Next to her, the professor listens attentively.

The woman is not what I expected. She definitely doesn´t look like a scholar. She is quite attractive, most probably in her early to mid-sixties, and I think they call her style _hippie chick_ nowadays. No wonder Ana feels so at ease in her company, for an academic the woman is anything but intimidating. There is something oddly familiar about her, I may have seen her somewhere else, and then it hits me: Ana´s graduation, of course. As a faculty member, she certainly was in attendance.

I wonder if I should tell my girl that there is a very noticeable love mark in her nape – most probably a souvenir from our Charlie Tango experience early this morning. She probably hasn´t noticed it, because she is wearing her hair up this afternoon.

 _Yes, there is a little female vanity in you, Miss Steele…_

She wouldn´t be wearing her hair like that if she knew she had a hickey in the back of her neck. I decide against telling her, she would be mortified. Still unnoticed by the two women, I take a moment to catch my breath, while I drink in the sight of Anastasia and how lovely she looks.

 _Yes, Miss Steele, I´m afraid a few of my stalker tendencies are alive and kicking as far as you are concerned…_

I look around the tea room, and I notice that I am not the only one watching her. All I can do is glare in the direction of my pretentious rival, praying that my steely gaze would burn him to ashes, but other than that I clench my fists and do nothing. I´ll put an end to that soon enough. It baffles me that she still has no clue of how attractive she is.

"Look Ana, he´s here! That´s him, isn´t he?"

I am brought back to the present by Professor Frazier, who sees me first. She pokes Anastasia, and my girl´s face lightens up like a Christmas tree when she sees me. There it is, that telltale blush again.

 _Yes, she is remembering Charlie Tango. I remember it too, baby._

As a matter of fact, I don´t think I´ll ever be able to fly that chopper again without being struck by the memory.

I walk towards their little table. Ana is on her feet and practically running towards me, and we meet half way. She greets me with a swift kiss on my lips.

"Hi!"

"You´re wearing then," I whisper in wonderment, not to mention relief – Ana has a tendency to reject my gifts to her at first.

"I´m never taking them off, I love them too much," she says simply. "Thank you." And she kisses me again.

I quickly steal a glance at Ana´s other admirer in the room and fire him a smug glare. The fucker has the decency to blush and look away.

 _Yes, she´s mine._

I sense that someone else is staring at us, and I see one of the Cardevac brothers, the one who nearly refused to sign at the last moment. He smiles and nods appreciatively then leaves. I am glad he witnessed the tender moment between Anastasia and I – I liked the idea of him eating his own words. He even has the grace to blush – that is a nice added bonus, considering that he nearly gave me a heart attack in the boardroom one hour ago.

 _That serves you right, you old devil._

"Who is that?" Ana asks, following the direction of my gaze.

"The former CEO of Vedius Pharma," I reply flatly, my eyes fixed on the man´s retreating back.

"And might I ask who is the current CEO?" she teases, nudging my upper arm.

"You are looking at him."

She breaks into a smile.

"You did it! You really did it."

"Yeah. I fucking did it."

"Wow, Christian, that´s… huge!"

 _Yes, baby. It is!_

"I´m so proud of you right now. Congratulations!"

I never learned, never will learn how to receive a compliment. Think I might be even blushing a little, it´s fucking embarrassing. It is what it is, it is what I do, and I happen to do it well, it´s as simple as that. No big deal. Saying nothing, I just place a hand in the small of her back and gently guide her towards her professor, who is beaming at us.

"Come on now, your guest is waiting for us."

Before I can say anything else she does a graceful pirouette to turn around and quickly begins to introduce me to the Frazier woman. The customary pleasantries are exchanged.

"Alexandra Frazier," she says politely, extending her hand to me. We exchange a brief handshake. Her hand is icy cold, betraying a certain nervousness.

"Christian Grey. I´m pleased to meet you, professor. Anastasia speaks very highly of you."

Her smile is friendly, but it never quite reaches her green eyes – those are wary. Cautious, I would say. She does not hold my gaze one second more than politeness requires.

Puzzling. Why is that? I´m momentarily intrigued.

"Likewise, Mr. Grey. Likewise. But please, call me Allie, all my students do." I nod politely. "Your speech during the graduation ceremony was memorable, undoubtedly the best we´ve had in the recent years. I can only congratulate you on the work you have done, it is not every day I have a chance to meet a true philanthropist."

 _Oh no, not again. Please let us not go there, professor. It´s business. Good business._

Why does everybody keep trying to convince me otherwise?

 _Because it is,_ Flynn would say. And so would Ana.

Never mind that.

I finally notice a flicker of recognition in the older woman´s face as well. Actually, in spite of her eloquent speech chanting my praises, she still seems a little on edge, ill at ease. She shifts her weight from one foot to another, she even stutters from time to time and she barely meets my eyes - a dead giveaway. It is not a reaction I haven´t witnessed before more times than what I can possibly count – what surprises me is that it comes from a highly intellectual woman who appears to be so self-assured. However, this time I don´t think there is anything to do with the way every other female seems to react to the sight of my face. I am accustomed to that kind of reaction from people when they first meet me, I am well aware that my stance alone is enough to intimidate people, women in particular. But no, it´s not that, this is something else entirely.

"Have we met before?" I dare ask her, my eyes narrowing. "Other than Ana´s graduation, of course."

Like the song, the professor´s face instantly goes a whiter shade of pale.

"I – I really don´t think so, Mr. Grey – I certainly would have remembered you."

But still…

 _Oh wait._

Now I remember. Not Ana´s graduation, but before that. Years before.

Fuck, why did I have to ask that question? I am not usually so careless. I must be wearier than I previously thought.

 _No wonder the poor woman is so nervous…_

Four, maybe five years ago. I was search for new sub. "Hunting", as Elena would say, so I took her advice and we went to this very high class, very exclusive BDSM club in Seattle.

" _I know you hate those places, Christian, but think of it as…_ window shopping _this time…_ " she had said.

That is where I saw Alexandra Frazier. _Allie,_ as her students fondly call her _._ No, I am not even sure she is or was a submissive, but she was there accompanied by a man I knew, a medical doctor – and a well-known Dom in our inner circle. Her husband or lover, I had no way of knowing then. I knew her companion, but I hardly payed any attention to her, my eyes were too busy scanning the grounds hunting for unattached brunettes. But I still remember her, perhaps because of her unique sense of style and exotic, colorful looks.

My reminiscences are interrupted when the professor glances nervously at her watch, mumbling something about how late it was. I try to put some reassurance in the smile I give her, it was the least I can do.

Well, the _only_ thing I can do at this point.

That was one of the reasons why I rarely go to those clubs, no matter how exclusive, how secretive they are. Meetings like these in the light of the day, although a rare occurrence, are always potentially awkward. I am used to it by now, I know how to handle it – well, after this shit happens in a boardroom two or three times, you just learn your way around it. The best thing to do is to keep a blank face and pretending nothing out of the ordinary is going on, that the image of the CEO sitting across from you in the negotiating table naked and tied at the cross while being viciously whipped by his Dominatrix girl friend is merely a figment of your imagination, of your sleep deprived mind.

Yes. As I said, shit happens!

Despite all that the respectable, albeit eccentric, woman facing me was obviously not used to such circumstances. This could very well be her first experience.

I wish I could find a way to tell her to put her mind at ease. First because I did not see her in the middle of a sadomasochistic scene that day, she was merely sipping a glass of a prized vintage Bollinger champagne next to her companion. It was all very innocent, actually. Secondly, even if I had caught her in the middle of a scene (and it could have happened, I should point out) I wouldn´t dream of embarrassing her, especially in front of Anastasia.

No, I wouldn´t do that to _anyone_.

People like me are a part of a very closed circle, a tightly knit community of people with preferences that always were, always would be, frowned upon. Let me just say that we protect one another. Although my days as a 24/7 Dom are over since I met Anastasia, I still consider myself one of them, I still respect those unwritten and unspoken rules that are there for the protection of our privacy and the privacy of those we love and care for.

Alexandra Frazier has nothing to fear from me.

If I am not able to make that clear to her today, I will do so soon enough.

"I really must talk to you again soon, Ana," she says meaningfully, just before she leaves. I catch her warning glance.

 _What the hell was that?_

"You know, about that graduate program you are interested, of course."

The woman´s body language was clear enough – she was lying through her teeth. I knew Ana was interested in continuing her studies sometime in the future, but that was not what the college professor wanted to discuss with her.

"Oh. Of course," Ana replied, shifting her gaze from Allie Frazier to me and back to her again. She too had caught that strange vibe, I have no doubt about it. She looks as puzzled as hell. There is no doubt she will bombard me with questions as soon as we are alone.

Surprisingly, the professor turns to me.

"I was telling Annie that she could try flying a little higher in the future – she´s Ivy League material, you know."

 _Of course I know that!_

"But if she wishes to remain at WSU, we would be honored to have her." She turns to Ana again. "I´ll be in Seattle the week after the next, I´ll give you a call. We still have a few very important things to discuss."

"Please do," Ana says. "I´ll be waiting."

 _Oh shit._

Is Professor Frazier, by any chance, harboring the intention of talking to Ana about me? I might be reading too much into this, but, nevertheless, it makes me uneasy for a moment. I must be quick, I must tell Anastasia about how and when I´ve met her thesis advisor before, so that she is warned. I must explain how such things work, because I don´t want to run the risk of having her freaking out because of my past again. Not because of something as insignificant as this.

The woman glances back at me only briefly.

"Take very good care of this one, Mr. Grey, she´s a keeper." She says, addressing me by my name for the first time. Was it my imagination or there was just the hint of a warning in her voice?

 _Yes, I´ll have to tell Anastasia about this, the sooner the better!_ The professor has seen in my old days, and I´m not like that anymore, I´m trying not to be. For Ana.

"I know. That is what I intend to do, Allie," I reply with a polite smile. Then she turns to Ana, as if to say something else. She gives up, shaking her head.

I breathe a sigh of relief after the woman is gone, and I am sure that she does the same on her side. Fortunately, Ana doesn´t appear to have noticed anything.

 _I will have to tell her…_

I cannot afford to run unnecessary risks with Anastasia. Not anymore.

 _No more secrets…_

"So… Ivy League, Miss Steele?" I taunt. "Impressive!"

"Never mind that, Christian, what was that all about?" Ana frowns at me.

Oops – for a moment I thought I might have fooled her. I really must work on my diversionary tactics!

"What?" I feign innocence.

"Don´t give me that look, you know what I am talking about." She rolls her eyes.

 _Miss Steele…._

"I don´t know, I can´t put my finger on it. Mmm…" she hums, appraising me critically.

"Mmm what, Anastasia?"

"She is a self-assured sixty something year old college professor with an outstanding academic career behind her, a husband who adores her, a mother and a grandmother… And with all that, even she is intimidated by you. I´ve never seen her quite like that."

I smirk.

 _Yes, I will have to tell her later._

"So, her husband adores her, does he?"

"That is what she tells us."

"Well, I adore you, Miss Steele." Her eyes darken, the mischief in her eyes slowly morphing into something entirely different.

"You look so tired," Ana says, touching my face. I lean down and kiss her forehead.

"I _am_ tired. And you look worried," I fire back instantly. "Why is it?"

"Worried about you now that I´ve seen you… There are circles under your eyes, I don't like that. Sometimes I think you work too hard, Mr. Grey."

 _Too many fucking battles in a day, Miss Steele. That is how I look afterwards. It drains me. Get used to it!_

"Says the woman who had to be convinced to take the day off to be here with me today," I reply, trying to sound playful.

"It turned out to be a very productive day in the end, it was worth it. I doubt I would get so much work done if I stayed back at SIP."

"I hate to tell you this, but I told you so."

"I´m glad I came."

"Really?"

"Yes. Thank you for bringing me." She kisses my cheek again and hooks her arm to mine, as we walk slowly towards the hotel lobby. "What about your meetings? Is everything well in the world of high finances?"

 _It is now._

"Paraphrasing your Shakespeare, all is well that ends well, Miss Steele. Contrary to what the term indicates, friendly takeovers are usually not that friendly, or peaceful. This one was all right." I shrug.

 _Well, that might have been just a bit of an understatement…_

"Is that what it was? A friendly takeover?"

"More or less so, yes. But now I believe we have just another very important task ahead of us before we retire for the day."

"Clayton´s? Are you sure you want to do that?" she pouts a little.

"I´m very sure. I need those ropes."

"We can always get those things in Seattle. Or online. I mean, you look beat! I had a good day, Christian, I got a lot of work done, and apparently so did you. I won't mind if you´d rather call it a day."

"No, I'd like to go there again with you. Come on, it will be fun. Think of it as a stroll down memory lane. We´ll have dinner somewhere nice after that."

"Dinner?"

"Yeah. You pick the place this time. I don´t know about you, but I´m starving. You have no idea what kind of pretentious food they served us for lunch!"

"All right, your call Mr. Grey. Do you want to go right away or would you like to go upstairs first? You know, to freshen up."

She is biting her lips. _Freshen up, Miss Steele? What wicked intentions you are hiding in that cunning mind of yours?_

"What time do they close?" I glance at my watch.

"Six-thirty, I think."

"Then we must get going or we won´t make it. Come on, I have the car parked outside."

Our scheduled trip down memory lane is about to begin...


	7. Chapter 7

**Wow, such wonderful reviews, I am deeply moved! Luna, augiesanne, daytonalay, thank you! I am glad you are enjoying it, I´m glad I seem to be doing a good job. I hope to keep up the good work!**

 **This is another very, very long chapter that I had to split in two parts. The second part will be published before the end of the week, since I´m practically done with it. It´s the beginning of the end of a very busy day for Ana and Christian. He is mentally tired, and it shows.** **Sorry about any typos, if there are any still there - I did my best to remove them all, but you never know.**

 **See first chapter for the disclaimer.**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Now have fun with it - and I hope you will!**

 **0000000**

 **Chapter 07**

 **0000000**

" _ **I want to love you but I better not touch,**_

 _ **I want to hold you, but my senses tell me to stop,**_

 _ **I want to kiss you but I want it too much,**_

 _ **I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison.**_

 _ **You're poison, running through my veins,**_

 _ **You're poison.**_

 _ **I don't want to break these chains...**_ _ **"**_

 _ **Alice Cooper, Poison**_

 **0000000**

As I navigate the roads of suburban Portland towards Clayton´s Hardware Store, Anastasia entertains me with tales about her favorite professor, while Scriabin´s _Poème de L´Extase_ plays on the radio. My girl looks incredible – she is happy, and I love to see her happy. Her eyes are sparking, she is gesticulating as she talks – always a good sign. It takes all of my self-discipline to pay attention to the traffic while I drive, instead of just gaping at her like an idiot.

"She was not what I expected," I admit, eyes glued to a particularly busy road, as I remember Alexandra Frazier in her colorful flowing dress and her natural silver hair. "She´s not your stereotypical scholar, is she?"

 _Most definitely not!_ The woman looked like she had just jumped from an audition for a part in Hair. Not the stereotypical college professor – not the stereotypical sexual submissive either. Or dominant.

But let us leave all that for later…

"I know, she´s incredible. I was so lucky she agreed to be my mentor. Did you know she was a hippie?"

 _Now why doesn´t that surprise me?_

She giggles - her voice is music to my ears, a balm to my overworked brain cells, and I gladly let her ramble away.

"Yeah, but don´t let that fool you. She knows her stuff."

"You mean, the Brontës, Miss Austen and… let us not forget Hardy."

"Oh yes. Thomas Hardy. Especially him. No one understands him like she does."

 _I bet!_

Sex, murder, illegitimate children, unmarried living together… yes, the man definitely ruffled the Victorian feathers with his novels. I can see how it would appeal to someone as unusual as Ana´s professor. What surprised me when I first heard it is that they had drawn Ana as well – but only for a second or two. When I heard her shy admission that first day in my office that she fell in love with English literature when she read Thomas Hardy, I knew I there was so much _more_ behind Anastasia Steele´s initial clumsiness and frumpy looks.

I am more than a little relieved, actually by the direction of our conversation. I was expecting Ana would start bombarding me with questions about the strange mood back in the tea room as soon as we were alone. Yes, I know she sensed it, judging by the puzzled looks she threw at me. Knowing her, I can guess the questions will be unavoidable, but at least I will be better prepared for them, when and if they ever come.

"It´s all very romantic, she had such an amazing life…" She still rambles about her favorite college professor. "Not that she talks a lot about it to her students, but one hears things. You know. Campus gossip."

 _Campus gossip? Romantic?_

 _Oh Anastasia, you´re incorrigible!_

"Is she married?"

"Oh yes. When I said I would be moving to Seattle after graduation, she told me she spends half the week there because of her husband´s job. He is a professor at the WSU medical school."

"English lit?"

"Nope. Medicine. He is a doctor, and a relatively famous one. This according to Kate – I´ve never met him. She says they are a very unlikely couple."

 _Oh baby, you have no idea!_

"And why does Miss Kavanaugh say that?"

"Allie is a former flower child, he is… _not…_ I mean, he is more like you, you know."

That deserves a raised eyebrow.

 _Anastasia, what marvelous instincts you have!_

"Although Allie told us once that he did have his wild days in the past when they first met. It seems they have a very complicated history, but I don´t know much about it."

"Define complicated."

 _Fifty shades of fucked up? I highly doubt it._

"You are unusually curious today, Mr. Grey. It´s just old campus gossip…"

"I´m unusually overwrought, Miss Steele. I love the sound of your voice, it soothes me. I love your way with words. I would be happy even if you began reciting Emerson´s Essays to me, but this sounds more fun."

"She is fun, isn´t she? We could come down one day and sit though one of her lectures, you´d love it. She has some very unique views about literature."

"I bet she does! Do you know the name of her husband? If he is based in Seattle, my mother might know him." I try to sound casual.

"Dr. Nicholas Hayes… or Haynes, I am not sure. Frazier is her maiden name, and she kept it after her marriage. Marriages, I should say. He´s her third husband."

I grin.

"Incurable romantic, multiple marriages, unusual… she reminds you of your mom, doesn´t she?"

It was impossible not to make the connection. Let us face it, Anastasia´s scatterbrained mother, as fun and loving as she might be, seems to be a little too self-involved, at least when she chose to live across the country when Ana was still barely a teen. No wonder Anastasia looks for a mother figure wherever she finds it. Her instant connection with my own mother is another example. But then, who am I to judge? I tend to lose my objectivity around Anastasia, and anything that involves her. This could be the case with my opinion about her whimsical mother as well.

"Wow. Paraphrasing Dr. Flynn now, Mr. Grey?"

I shrug.

"Years and years of therapy, baby. You pick up a few things here and there…"

"Have you ever heard of him?"

"Who? Allie´s husband?"

"Kate told me once that he is supposed to be one of this country´s leading authorities in trauma surgery. Her dad knows him well. They move in the same circles, as she says."

Should I or should I not tell her now? Yes, I should. It´s a near perfect opportunity.

 _Here I go…_

"Yes, I know Nick, and so does my mother. And yes, he is extremely good at what he does."

"I knew it. As I said – same circles."

 _Oh, but it´s much more than that, baby!_

I clear my throat.

 _Here I go._

"My mother knows him because of her job. You´re right, he is the top man in his field of expertise. But I know him because he is a Dom," I add smugly, letting the information slip naturally in one breath. I keep my eyes on the road, but I had no doubt that if I glanced at her, I would see her jaw drop.

We drive a couple of blocks in complete silence. She appears to be in shock.

"Anastasia? Are you still with me."

"I don´t think I… Say that again? He is a _what_?" she finally speaks!

"A dominant." I feel no need to sugarcoat the information.

"Like you."

"Like me."

Minus the fucked up past, the rough start in life shit - I imagine. It is not a requirement. We all have different motivations that led us to the BDSM world, it is not necessarily a coping mechanism to deal with our emotional trauma. Deep inside, we are what we are, and we can´t help it. Nick Hayes is a well-known Dom in the inner circle of the community, but some of his preferences were different than mine. He isn´t a sadist, for instance, but, on the other hand, he is into some other things I won´t get near of, things that are hard limits for me. I would never reveal such details to Ana, of course, it would shock her to the core.

Not that she isn´t in a little bit of shock right now.

"Wow. Are you freaking kidding me, Christian?"

"Nope. I never joke about the lifestyle, Ana."

"A dominant who specializes in emergency medicine. How ironic is that?" She lets out a nervous giggle.

"Convenient, isn´t it? Or at least it would be if his preferences matched mine, but they don´t. He is not a sadist – and that is all I am telling you."

 _Different kinks, baby. That is all there is to it._

Then she freezes, as another implication hits her.

"Oh my God! Does that mean she is… she is a… Oh crap! But she is so… Wow!"

"Hold on, that I don´t know for sure. I only know about her husband", I add quickly. I hesitate for a brief moment, before revealing a little more. "Actually, I am not even supposed to tell you any of this, but it may come up if you meet her again, since she probably knows about me too. I just don´t want you to be caught unawares."

 _I don´t want you panicking when you hear what she might say about me…_

 _I don´t want you running again, Anastasia!_

Though I have never seen any of them staging a scene, it´s almost certain they´ve seen me in action at least once… In my early days as a Dom, when I didn´t care about anything but the release that came with the domination and the spanking of brown haired women.

 _They saw me…_

 _They saw what I can do with a cat o´nine tails… They saw me with the whip and the cane. They knew about the wicked ways I had to keep the sub from avoiding the pain I inflicted upon them…_

 _The depths of my depravity I would never let Ana see… Things I would never do to her even if she begged…_

 _They saw me…_

 _They knew…_

Let others watch, I didn´t care in those days, when I didn´t have much to lose. That changed over the years, of course, and by the time I met Ana, I was no longer that careless.

"No, no! That´s a good thing you are telling me. She did look like she was trying to warn you – or me - didn´t she?"

 _My clever girl!_

She covers my hand and gives it a light squeeze.

"Thank you for trusting me with this. I did notice there was some strange vibe going on back there, and yes, I was going to ask you about it. But don´t worry, before you say anything, I wouldn´t dream of telling it to anyone else. She is an amazing woman, and nothing she does in her private life should concern me or anyone else."

 _We´ll see. That might be easier said that done, sweetheart!_

"Her secret is safe with me – just as yours is."

"I know." I just breathe for a moment.

 _But there are things she could tell you, Ana…_

 _Fuck!_

How am I supposed to go around that one?

"Just promise me one thing."

"Yes?"

I have to be truthful about this. Hard lesson learned, by now I know it´s the only way.

"Whatever she tells you… about me… If she tells you _anything_."

"Yes?" her brow is wrinkled – never a good sign.

"Just talk to me first before freaking out. Will you do that? Please?"

"That bad, mmm?"

 _Oh shit!_

I choose not to answer her this time. Definitely not the best moment. I am _driving,_ for fuck´s sake!

"Remember early on when you asked if I ever hurt one of the fifteen?"

 _Yes. Feed Miss Steele´s need for information with something else. Diversionary tactics…_

"Yes, I remember. You said it happened once. With the ropes."

"Nick Hayes was the doctor I called. In fact, I wouldn´t have trusted anyone else with something like that."

"Wow. Small world!" She thinks for a moment. "But she is an honest to goodness _feminist_! You saw her, you saw the way she dresses, the way she…"

"That has nothing to do with it," I say.

I have to bite my tongue to keep myself from telling her more. I probably will eventually – not now, since I am already looking for a good parking spot near Clayton´s.

"Mmmm…"

"Ana?" I inquire gently.

"There is still so much about you I don´t know."

I shake my head.

 _My fucking complicated world, baby, you know that already._

"Well, there is a lot about me I don´t know myself, so we´re even."

 _I don´t know who my father is… He could be an honorable man, or a sadistic serial killer… I don´t know where I came from, my heritage… I am not even sure of my real name…_

 _I don´t know if one day the monster that lurks inside me will scare Ana away again…_

 _I don´t know…_

She grunts a little, as if she is mumbling something to herself. Is she wondering about the same things, I wonder?

"What is it?"

"Your comment about my mom made me think of yours."

 _Fuck! No Ana, please don´t go there... Just don´t!_

I tense. I grab the wheel with both of my hands, until my knuckles are white. I wanted to tell her not to… but then I promised, _no secrets._ In times like this, it wasn´t so fucking easy!

 _I can´t handle it right now._

 _There is a limit to what a man like me can take in one day. And I might be about to reach it._

"My mother?" My voice came out hoarse. I glance at her, but she is looking ahead, oblivious of my discomfort. She faces me them, her eyes clear, her face transparent. Then I know I have nothing to fear, even if…

 _"_ I was just wondering – among other things - if your mother wasn´t a little frustrated because you didn´t choose to go to Medical School? My mom wouldn´t care if I decided to become a circus performer, she never interfered with my choices in any way, but I know how parents can be sometimes."

Oh. _That_ mother. Grace.

I smirk.

"No, she knew early on I didn´t have what it takes to be a medical doctor. I lacked any vocation for that. So, she was never frustrated – not because of me. Not as much as my father was frustrated because I dropped out from Harvard."

I leave it at that. Let me just say that Harvard is still a sore spot between my father and I and, as successful as I am, the subject still comes up from time to time.

I park the car in front of the hardware store, but neither of us make a move.

"Brooding again, Anastasia?" She has that frown upon her face again, it worries me.

"Nothing. I´m good - just having a little philosophical moment here. An epiphany, if you will. I need a moment."

"Deep thoughts, Miss Steele?"

"I'll say."

"Go on," I encouraged her.

"Have you ever played that six degrees of separation game?"

"That Kevin Bacon thing? No, I can´t say that I have."

"I was only one degree of separation away from you all this time… Ever since my first year in college. They say fate moves in mysterious ways. I'm thinking we would have met anyway, even if Kate had been well enough to interview you that day."

Probably. The question is, had I met Ana one or two years ago, would I be able to really see her beyond the natural submissive I wrongly assumed she was? Undoubtedly the strong physical attraction would be there, but would I know what to do with it, to reach for what was beyond it? Would I be ready to be defied, to be challenged in every other moment I was with her? Would I end up trusting and loving her enough to let her touch me?

Or would I barely look at her and move on? Would I offer her that fucking contract and let her go for good the first time she hesitated? Or simply meeting her would do the trick, she would be able to change me as she had regardless of how ready I was?

I don´t know too many unanswered questions that would remain unanswered. Another puzzle for Flynn to help me solve one of these days, although the answers hardly matter right now. The point is that, looking back, I don´t think I was ever quite ready for her at all, that I would never be completely ready for the storm in my life that was Anastasia Steele, and that is one of the reasons why she had such a major impact. Rationally, I would never be ready. She is the one who started it all. I never did the whole intimacy thing before Ana, my relationships were contractual and strictly physical. Anastasia triggered instincts in me I never knew I possessed – at least instincts that I didn´t want to possess, or even acknowledge. Yes, I was protective of my former subs, but it was more a matter of fulfilling a sexual contract than a need I felt deep in my heart. The fact that I _need_ to protect and care for her, that I need to touch and kiss and whisper sweet nothings to her without necessarily leading us ultimately to sex or, considering my preferences in a recent past, to a session in my playroom where I would spank the living shit out of her. It was, and still is, disconcerting to me. I´m still adjusting.

Our timing was beautiful, it was perfect – it was one of the things I always knew about us. That is what matters.

"That's an intriguing idea," I say finally, keeping those thoughts to myself for the moment. "Yes, I think we would have met eventually, regardless of that interview. But not through your thesis advisor. I would have seen you at that graduation, remember?"

"That's right. Would you even look twice at me? I doubt it."

I place my hand on her knee, and she squirms a little, reacting to the slightest of my touches, as she always did.

"Something tells me I would.

Had I not met her I would still be a dominant search for his next submissive. A feisty brunette like Ana wouldn´t have escaped my eye… Yes, I would be drawn to her, like moth to a flame. I am sure I would.

"But I would have to steal you from the photographer, but I know you'd end up exactly where you are right now."

"You wouldn't have to steal me from anyone, Christian." She placed her hand on top of mine and holds it firmly. "There is no way I would have let José go too far that night at the bar. Drunk or not, I was ready to kick his balls when you showed up."

 _Good girl._

"Ana…" I just didn´t want to start a discussion about that topic right now. "I think we should go now before they close."

 _A trip down memory lane…_

It feels that way, it is almost like coming back in time. The sights, sounds smells, colors of a cluttered suburban hardware store. One of the last places on earth I would expect to find a romantic English lit major like Anastasia Rose Steele working to pay her college bills. A bookstore, or a coffee shop perhaps, but not in such unlikely surroundings - male oriented, when she is such a feminine creature.

Part of me nearly expects to see her by the register, all hair and eyes, wearing old blue jeans and nibbling on a bagel. There is another girl there today, probably another college undergrad - a frisky redhead this time, a teenage version of little orphan Annie. I blink against the vision, trying to readjust my thoughts.

"Oh hi," Ana greets her.

But grownup orphan Annie had already set her eyes on me, ignoring Anastasia completely. Her jaw drops.

 _Here we go._

"Oh Gosh," she gasps, as she gives me a through look, from head to foot and then back, landing on my crotch.

 _For fuck´s sake!_ Not today, I´m too tired for this.

"This never gets old," Ana snickers next to me. I glance sideways at her – sometimes I think she doesn´t have one single jealous bone in her body. She always reacts to women wanting to throw themselves at me with humor. The one exception was the incident with Leila in her apartment, but then her jealousy, if indeed existed, was clouded by her fear.

 _Or, perhaps I have never given her any reason to be seriously jealous before._

 _Keep up the good work, Grey!_

I act quickly - I fire the redhead one mean scowl, probably the best in my repertoire, and her face goes from bright red to deadly pale in a matter of seconds.

"Can I help you?" the girl asks, trying her best to appear more composed.

"Yes, please" I reply with icy coldness. "We´re looking for the rope section."

"That would be in aisle four, to the right. Do you want me to…"

"No, thank you, we´ll manage," I interrupt her curtly.

"OK then. Let me know if you need any help."

Ana thanks her, as we move along.

"Lead the way, Miss Steele."

"Turn off that evil look right now, Master Grey. You almost reduced the poor girl to tears glowering like that," she says, as we move between the over packed shelves.

"Amused, are you?"

"Yes, I am! Deeply amused, _sir_."

"Ana Steele? Is that you?" Another voice intrudes.

And there he appears in all his All-American next-door neighbor glory. The very soul of inconvenience.

Paul Clayton in person.

I think I actually _groan_.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Christian - behave," she pleads, in a hushed tone. "Remember, this was _your_ idea."

She does have a point!

"Yes, it is really you, I'd recognize that voice anywhere. Gosh, I missed you!"

I cross my arms and increase the potency of my scowl, while Paul Clayton practically grabs Ana and pulls her to him, enveloping her in a bear hug, taking her by surprise. Obviously. The bastard has no concept of personal space.

Highly unpleasant.

My palms are not twitching, they are fucking _numb._

 _God, I hate huggers!_

If he even tries to kiss her _anywhere_ , he is a dead man. He doesn´t, which means he gets to live another day. At least a few more hours. No, make that minutes.

I´m fuming!

"You look great!" He is running his paws up and down her arms now. I roll my eyes. "How have you been?"

"Good! I´m in Seattle now."

I clear my throat. Ana steals a nervous glance at me.

"Oh, this is my boyfriend, Christian. You´ve met him before, when I worked here, remember?"

The dominant glare is still on, and it has the same effect on Paul Clayton it had on little orphan Annie. He is only a little more capable of hiding it. Naah, not so much. He takes a step back, from Ana. And from me.

"Ah. Mr. Grey. Yes, of course I remember. Christian Grey."

We shake hands, and I place a possessive arm around Ana´s shoulder, bringing her closer to me again, her back to my chest. All of my caveman´s instincts kick in at once.

 _Mine._

Palms are still twitching. Next to me, Anastasia still looks like she is enjoying herself.

It´s fucking infuriating.

"Oh. Are you too… like… together _together_ now?" the boy asks, fingers pointing from me to Ana and back to me.

"Yes, we are." I reply smugly. "Together _together_." Someone seriously needed to improve on his vocabulary. "Anastasia just moved in with me."

 _Choke on that one, pretty boy!_

"How is José?"

 _Is this oversized jerk trying to spike me?_

"Oh, he is in Los Angeles for some photography thing, I haven´t seen him in a while," Ana informs him.

"Good! I mean… Have you met my girlfriend yet?"

 _Ah, the plot thickens…_

"It´s Jessie, you saw her when you came him. The one with the curly red hair."

 _So, Mr. All-American Neighbor finally managed to have his claws in one of his employees!_

 _Jackass…_

But… is that the attempt of a little smug glance he is shooting in my direction when he mentions the existence of a girlfriend?

 _Dude, please!_

Suddenly, I just wanted to buy their entire stock of ropes and get out of there. My little caprice was turning out not to be a good idea at all.

 _How about a little more objectivity next time, Grey?_

I could be alone with Anastasia at this very moment if only I had taken her suggestion of going upstairs to freshen up. Right now I just wanted to be done with this week´s worst idea quickly.

Ana still does the honor of speaking for both of us.

"Oh yes. We saw her when he came in. I didn´t know she was your girlfriend, though. She´s cute!"

Yeah, good for him, although he doesn´t look like he is head over hills in love with little orphan Annie. Not considering the way he is alternating between ogling Anastasia and peeking nervously at me.

I take another deep breath.

Truthfully, I have to recognize I might be a little unfair with Paul Clayton. He does his job well, and, apparently, he likes what he does. He knows his stuff. As a matter of fact, he is probably the epitome of the perfect boyfriend, then husband, that Anastasia´s parents may still have in mind for her. The one she should one day settle for in a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence and 2.5 children. Tall and handsome, without any of that dark shit, reliable, hard working. As a student of Business Administration, he might have a nice career ahead of him. Yes, even I have to admit he has some redeeming qualities.

He is also mentally stable. Or, at least, he appears to be, in spite of his annoying touchy-feely ways.

 _Normal._

The idea makes me cringe. He probably does not have a red room of pain in the back of the hardware store where he whips brown haired girls.

I look down at Anastasia. She is leaning into me, leaning away from him, making no attempt to pull her hand from mine.

It´s soothing!

So much that I make no attempt to join their conversation, her little catching up session with the fucker, who asks question after question about mutual college friends, most of which I´ve never heard about. While the golden boy practically eats her with his eyes, there is not the slightest glimmer of physical attraction from her part. Her body language couldn´t be clearer on that, she shifts closer and closer to me. The same happened with her photographer friend, the one who would keep trying to stick his tongue down her throat, even though she was saying no repeatedly - no, I don´t think I would never forgive him for that.

"I bet you wish for that flogger now, Mr. Grey." she murmurs in my ear.

"Ana…"

We finally start following the twit - I am running out of nasty adjectives to call him - I mean, Paul Clayton to the rope aisle. It´s a labyrinth inside that store, I vaguely wonder if they have some kind of logical system to organize their merchandise. Clearly, they don´t.

"Ana´s guide for beginners, chapter 3. No self-respecting Dom should leave home without his favorite spanking devices. Or chapter 4: S&M on the road - Because sometimes it´s not so easy to improvise."

My lips twitch, I barely repress a bubble of laughter. Only Anastasia can do that to me. That sense of humor of hers will be the death of me. Still, my protective instincts kick in immediately and I remain quiet – one never knew who might be overhearing us. But I could not resist the temptation of provoking her just a little bit.

"Oh really? Not so easy? You´d be amazed how fucking creative I can be when I am challenged."

"Yes, I am fully aware of how fucking creative you are when you´re fucking, Mr. Grey."

 _The incorrigible Miss Steele…_

"Behave." I warn, lightly pat her behind.

I look around us. The Clayton boy is way ahead, already turning around a corner and following a different aisle right now. Good. Yielding to temptation once more I give a light pinch to the softest, roundest part of Ana´s anatomy. One of my favorite parts, as a matter of fact.

"Hey!" She jumps and turns around to look back at me, exasperated, her blue eyes shooting daggers.

 _Ooops!_

I didn´t hurt her, did I? It wasn´t my intent, I just wanted to pester her a little bit. Because I love that smart mouth of hers in each and every possible way.

 _Shit!_

My heart drops, I hold my breath. Too far, too much, maybe? And in public again?

"You too, sir – behave!" But then, there it is again, her eyes glinting with mischief. "If I let you spank me properly later, will you control yourself?"

 _Oh Anastasia!_

I love it when she does that, for so many reasons other than the obvious one. It means that she is comfortable with me, with what I am, relaxed enough to play with it, to tease me and let me tease her in return.

 _Two can play the same game, Miss Steele…_

 _You wait and see._

"It depends on how hard you´ll let me do it," I fire back.

The intensity in her eyes mirrors mine. It´s a miracle we don´t burn down to ashes right there, in the middle of the rope aisle in a Portland hardware store, with Paul Clayton only a few yards away. The golden boy is the only thing that kept me from grabbing Anastasia and kissing her to oblivion, then turning her over her knee and giving her the proper spanking her eyes are begging for.

 _Creatively._

"Hard, Mr. Grey. Always," she answers breathlessly.

"Do you see what you want?" the Clayton boy asks from somewhere nearby.

Oh, there they are. I finally deviate my eyes from Anastasia to look at the packed shelves around us.

"Yes."

I most definitely do, I think, taking a moment to stare at Ana´s perky breasts.

"Christian!?"

Oh yes.

 _The ropes._

 _Now leave us alone to make our choice._

And I´m back in business.

I need Ana for this, that is why I wanted her to tag along. She needs to feel the rope, to sense the effect it would have in her skin. It would help to take most of her fears away. But not only that.

 _Anticipation – that is the name of the game… A game I happen to be very good at, if not the best._

"Here, touch it." I pull the end of one of the natural fiber items and place it in her hand. "Feel it. Tell me what you think."

"Is this the one?" she asks me, frowning.

"Yes. Traditionally it´s what is used. Just feel it, Ana."

"Mmm… I read about those, but I don´t know…"

"Too coarse? I don´t want to risk chaffing your…"

"… _sails_. I know," she interrupts me, and only them I notice that Paul Clayton is closer, listening to our exchange with a perplexed look in his face.

Nice save, Ana. But…

 _Isn´t there anything else around the store that he can do? Make out with his girlfriend, for instance…_

I am usually not that careless. Maybe I´ve been taking this _hide in plain sight_ crap too seriously.

I ignore the silent presence of the Mr. America contestant standing behind us.

"And this… You know this, it´s the one I used before, remember?" I say, reaching for the red synthetic rope.

 _Oh, the memories…_

"Yes, I remember. _Thomas Tallis._ That was a very nice touch, by the way, considering that it was I who sold it to you… And I do like the color."

Her voice was husky, and to the more careful observer, there was no way we were still talking about sailboats. I had to end that quickly before we completely betrayed ourselves.

"You know what? We don´t have to decide right now, I´ll just take them both, I´m sure I´ll find other uses for it." Then I turn to the Clayton boy. "We´ll take fifty yards of each, please."

"Wow. That is one hundred yards of rope, I´ll have to check if we have it in stock."

"Whatever you have, I´ll take it all," I say impatiently."

"Everything?"

"Everything." I hand him a card. "You can have it delivered to this address tomorrow."

"But it will cost you…" I raise an eyebrow at him.

 _Dude, do you really think your price will be a problem to me?_

"Oh, never mind, Mr. Frey. Sure, we can Deliver it to you." He frowns, obviously intrigued. "Why do you need so much rope for?"

 _None of your fucking business,_ I wanted to yell. Instead, I just glare at him, unblinking.

"Shibari."

Ana is quick to disguise her gasp with a feigned cough. I wink at her.

 _Hide in plain sight, baby._

I think I might be getting the hang of it. It serves him right, for ogling my girlfriend during his working hours.

"Shi… what?" The prick´s two brain cells are obviously unable to make a connection between that any other word he knows from his limited vocabulary. "What is that?"

 _Google it, dickhead._

"Bondage." I reply flatly.

"Christian!" she turns to the Clayton boy. Seriously, by now I am just beginning to feel sorry for him. "It´s the name of… of one of… Christian´s boats. Not _Bondage_ , of course. _The Shibari_. Named after a… a…" I raise an eyebrow at her. "Japanese… flower...?"

Impressive!

This was _fun._ Finally!

After one of the most stressful days in my life in business, _this_ was what I needed. I´m biting my lips to keep myself from laughing out loud. I could stop her, but I won´t. This is too much fun. I stare at my own shoes, because if I as much as glance at her, I will crack up.

"Christian is… you know. Roping m… I mean _her_ … the boat. You know, for the sails. Of the boat…"

I´ll have material to tease her merciless for the rest of her life with this. My stomach is starting to hurt from the suppressed laughter. I don´t know wish face is redder, hers or Paul Clayton´s. The look in his face is priceless. He doesn´t get the reason for her embarrassment or for my mirth. He doesn´t get it at all. Oh, the beauty of hiding in plain sight. It _works_!

" _The_ boat. Not me, of course, that would be… kind of… Oh crap! How is Mr. Clayton, Paul?"

When we go back to the car, it takes me a few minutes to stop laughing before I could drive us safely, while Ana glares furiously at me.

"Oh, I wish that _I_ could tie you up and spank your perfectly sculpted ass right now, Christian Grey!"

I laugh harder.

 _You´re welcome to try that one, Miss Steele…_

I´m still laughing half an hour later when we sit down to have our dinner.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 08**

 **0000000**

 **Sorry about the delay – but I decided to publish this one as it is now, otherwise I´ll never stop editing!**

 **Thank you for your wonderful reviews. You guys are great!**

 **For this story, I chose a point of the original timeline, suspended in time, when there is still a lot of conflict between both characters, lots of unresolved issues. They are struggling. Christian is still having trouble controlling his dark, domineering side, and Ana is still learning how far she can go and trying to understand this very complex man that she loves. Christian says at some point in the trilogy that Ana has no idea of the depths of his depravity. I want to explore what he meant by that every now and then… In this chapter, for instance.**

 **Again, I am not in the lifestyle. But since I had no idea where to research this, I use my imagination to guess how a high class BDSM club would work – at least one where Christian felt reasonably safe.**

 **The usual disclaimer always applies**

 **Happy reading!**

 **0000000**

 _ **« Sade dit moi pourquoi le sang pour le plaisir ?**_

 _ **Le plaisir sans l'amour.**_

 _ **N'y a t'il plus de sentiment dans le culte de l'homme ?**_

 _ **Sade, es-tu diabolique ou divin?"**_

 _ **Enigma, Sadeness**_

 **0000000**

Anastasia chose the restaurant this time – a quaint little Italian place she used to go with Kate and José during her college days not long ago. After having lunch at that pretentious French _bistrot_ , I can´t bear the thought of any more _haute cuisine_ today. I am in the mood for something more substantial. Don´t get me wrong, I appreciate food carefully designed and prepared by a Michelin starred chef, but hey, I am a relatively big guy with a demanding lifestyle, I have a big appetite. I need nourishment every now and then - not to mention good wine. I need light, noise, people laughing around me. I need life. I need _her_.

I wanted some place lively and vibrant, a place where I wouldn´t want to kill myself for accidentally using the wrong fork. Ana´s choice is perfect, Nonna Lucia is surprising. It is a stereotypical Italian _trattoria_ , starting with the red and white checkered tablecloths, to the Chianti bottles hanging everywhere and aged family photographs.

"I love this place," Anastasia says, looking around her. "I missed it. We used to come here every month, or whenever I could afford it. The tiramisu is to die for. Did I tell you that José used to work here waiting tables for a while?"

"No, you didn't," I say, my head buried behind the menu.

"Freshman year, just before he got his first job as a photographer."

I simply would never share her enthusiasm about the guy. I grumble something unintelligible, including one or two f-words.

"Don´t pout like that, Christian," she admonishes me. Again, my turn to roll my eyes.

"You can´t see my mouth, how the hell you know if I´m pouting or not?" I say coolly, still behind the huge menu. It seems that the chef of the little restaurant wants to offer the _whole_ array of dishes of Southern Italian cuisine. They have _everything_ in here _._ Not usually a good sign, or maybe I am just a little too used to minimalist menus in Michelin starred restaurants. But I decide to keep my faith in Ana´s choice.

"You just rolled your eyes at me. You´re pouting. You´re jealous Christian now, and just one breath away from being angry Christian again."

 _Well observed, Miss Steele._

OK, maybe I am. First it was the fucker, Paul Clayton, and now that Ricky Martin look alike, the fucking photographer again. There is a limit to what a man can take. Minutes ago, we stepped inside the restaurant and the owner, Nonna Lucia herself with all her Neapolitan (or is it Sicilian?) effusiveness, came running towards Ana and greeted her. Her eyes fell on me and not only she was unimpressed (yes, it happens), but she was also suspicious. She asked immediately where Ana´s boyfriend was. No, not me. _Giuseppe._ Fucking José Rodriguez.

Ana guesses precisely what my problem was.

"There are people who think José and I were together, I never hid this from you. You did at some point, didn´t you? I keep telling them we´re like brothers, but… Sorry about that. I forgot, otherwise we could have gone somewhere else. José was a waiter here, sometimes when I came alone he would take a break and eat with me. Nonna Lucia just drew the wrong conclusion."

I lower the menu for a moment.

"So, he used to make sure you ate too, did he?" The green monster is still gnawing at me, and I hate how aggressive I sound. Still, I can´t help myself, I have to throw in another sarcastic remark. "I thought I was the first with that as well."

Ana flinches.

"Gosh! You men are unbelievable!" She hisses. I can tell she is trying hard not to raise her voice, not to yell at me. Fuck, I´ve angered her again. This could be bad…

"José is like a brother to me, always was, always will be. He is in my life and I have no intention of letting him go. Deal with it, Christian. When we were here, he just kept me from the age old embarrassment of eating alone in a restaurant. He never once counted the calories in my plate."

 _Ouch!_

"Satisfied?"

"Completely. And I apologize. That was way out of line."

She is still mad at me.

"You think? Out of line, uncalled for, not to mention completely irrational," she says angrily, counting each item on her fingers. I fire her a little sexy half smile – I know she can´t resist those.

"Gosh, I hate it when you do that to me. You know I can´t…"

 _There it is!_

"All right, apology accepted. I can´t blame you for being a little irrational after the hell of a day you had. Sorry."

I look at her, taking in every detail of her appearance as she sits across from me at the table. Her day may have been a little easier, but she too is a little tired. Her eyes are a little droopy – always a giveaway. I fight against the compulsion to just her to me and tell her to rest.

"Stop apologizing, Miss Steele. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about." I try to smile, to control those demons and keep the Dom at bay – at least for the moment. "Look, I know it´s not your fault. It´s not you, it´s me. I´m trying, Ana, but sometimes I just…"

 _I can control others, but is not so easy to control myself, Anastasia. It is as simple as that!_

"I know," she smiles back at me tenderly. "You just want to turn me over your knee and spank me right now, don´t you?" I don´t deny it. I can´t – she sees right through me. She giggles, and, as usual, that is enough to completely disarm me. At least nowadays she is able to see some humor in my fifty shades of fucked up.

Shaking my head, I glance at the enormous menu again.

"Mmmm – what is good here?"

"Are you kidding me? Everything is good in here! But I would start with the Puttanesca, it is what they are famous for."

"Really?"

"Kate says it´s the best she´s eaten outside Italy."

"I'll trust your expertise – and Miss Kavanaugh´s in this case. I guess I am too tired to think on my own, I´ve reached my quota of decision making for the day. I´ll have the same, if that's what you are having."

I set the menu aside after placing our order. She opts for the Carbonara instead, claiming she´d been craving it since she moved to Seattle. I don´t interfere with her choice.

 _You see, I can do that! I can be reasonable… First those ridiculously tiny earrings, and now this._

Service was fast and that earned more than a few points with me. The Chianti was at our table in the blink of an eye and the selection of appetizers I ordered soon followed. She makes no attempt to start asking her questions, I do not pressure her to do so. Instead, she listens while I ramble on about the Vedius deal and my squabbles with the three musketeers.

The main course arrives – the pasta dishes. She is right, the food is amazing, although I admit after I started paying attention to her, I barely tasted my plate anymore. I am so engrossed in watching her sheer delight in savoring her Pasta Carbonara. Her little whimpers of pleasure were positively decadent – she is indeed a bacon & eggs girl.

 _Does she have any idea she is such a sensual creature? Yes, my Anastasia is a natural sensualist, and I intend to teach her to fully explore that side of hers…_

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, courtesy of a near painful erection, wondering how fast is the drive back to the Heathman. I wonder if it would be a good idea to call Taylor to drive us back and somebody else to take care of that rental car, so that I would have Ana for me in the back seat.

She is now watching me from across our little table, with an intrigued expression in her face. From the look in her eyes, I doubt she has any idea of what her innocent delight in savoring just did to me.

I need some kind of distraction. Anything. Otherwise I would just have to grab her by the hand and drag her to the nearest alley. A restroom might do just as well. The idea occurs to me just as Ana excuses herself to do go the ladies room, leaving me alone at the table with my dark memories.

A train of thoughts soon follows. Elena, the lifestyle, Ana´s curiosity begging to be satisfied.

I close for my eyes. Just for a second.

 _I am sixteen and I just got my driving license. I am assigned to pick up Elena Lincoln and her husband at the airport. It´s been one year now, since she first seduced me. I am instructed to take their car – a Mercedes sedan. When we are headed back to Bellevue, she complains about some imaginary noise in the engine. I grow cold – I know her, I know what is coming. While Mr. Lincoln talks to a mechanic about the non-existing noise, she whispers to me: Go to the bathroom. Now! I know better than to disobey her, I am more than conditioned now after months of submissiveness. If I defy her, she´ll punish me. If I go, she´ll punish me anyway – not for that, but for something else. For looking at her at the wrong manner, for saying the wrong thing when I greeted them at the airport. For taking too long to follow her orders._

 _She always finds something. Always._

 _A filthy stall. It is the perverted kind of thing that she likes every now and then. She likes the thrill of it, the danger of being caught in the act…_

 _Memories start overlapping one another. Elena pushing my face against the wall, one hand holding my wrists above my head, the other traveling around me, brushing against my boundaries, dangerously close to where I can´t bear to be touched. She knows that. She teases me with the threat of running her hand down my chest, of raking her long fingernails against my skin. My fists clenching, as I fight against the temptation of using my safe word, against the desire her to overpower her, to turn around and show her who is the real master. Even at sixteen, not having reached my full height yet, I am taller, stronger than her - she keeps me exercised. I can turn the table in the blink of an eye if I want to – the thought gives me comfort._

 _Why don´t I do it?_

 _Her hand finds my cock… Another minute and she will be fucking me, while her husband is outside filling up the tank, while I can hear at least two other men just outside the stall…_

And then, I don´t want to remember anymore.

" _Christian…"_

The memory becomes a fantasy.

 _She is not Elena anymore – Anastasia takes her place, she is all I see, all I hear, all I smell. I turn around and take charge, pushing her against the opposite wall. Only that it is not a stall anymore, it is the elevator at the Heathman where we first kissed._

"Christian!"

Ana´s voice. I open my eyes and find her again sitting across from me at the table. I shake my head, as if to brush away any lingering unwanted thoughts. She doesn´t deserve that kind of shit from me anymore, even if it is only in my head.

"Hey," I smile.

"Hey. Where have you been?"

"Right here, baby."

"No, you were not. I don´t like it when you do that, when you run away to one of your dark places all of a sudden…"

I breathe deeply, wondering what can I possibly say to set her mind at easy. Usually I do my best to avoid Ana seeing me like this, but sometimes I let the guard down.

"Yes, it was dark, Ana, but then I found you there."

 _You saved me…_

"Do you want to talk about it?" she offers gently, reaching for my hand. I entwine my fingers with hers.

"Not now."

The waiter who came to take away our dishes was a welcome distraction. I´ll double his tip today.

"OK now, fire away," I say abruptly, gathering courage. "Give me your best shot."

"You just have that mega intense look in your eyes again, and I was wondering why." I breathe deeply. "But I won´t say anything, I won´t push you now, Christian. Not here. Not today."

"You don´t have to push me anymore, Ana. Just some bad memories hitting me at a bad time. No secrets, remember?"

Time to steer the conversation to a safer course, one that I can _control_.

"I know that look, I can practically hear your brain working, Miss Steele. The questions are burning in your lips ever since we left the hotel, they were there in the back of your mind when you feasted upon your Carbonara."

"You have no idea how much I was craving it." She giggles, more carefree now. "It was so good."

"Yes, I noticed!" I lean forward. "Now, what is it that you´ve been wanting to know since we left the hotel? Spill, Anastasia?"

"No secrets?"

"No secrets."

"OK. Let´s do this." She sounds dangerously determined. I don´t know if I am proud of her, or scared shitless about what she´ll come up with. "But I think we might need more wine."

I´m in complete agreement with her. I order another bottle, then I quickly reach for my phone and text a quick message.

"What are you doing?"

"I´m asking Taylor to pick us up and somebody else to deal with the rental car. It won´t be safe for me to drive back to the Heathman after indulging in so much Chianti."

"Taylor is still here? In Portland? I thought he was back in Seattle by now." she seems surprised.

"He is always everywhere where I might need him," I reply. She should know by now that Taylor is not only my fucking driver, he is also the head of my security team.

We have to wait a few more moments while our wine is poured. Fast service, I like that. An excellent Barolo this time, I was surprised to find it in their cellar. Slowly, she twirls the wine around in her glass.

"OK," she says again, setting her glass on the table firmly. "Ready?"

"Give me your best shot, Miss Steele." I encourage her.

"I am not going to ask you anything specific about Professor Frazier, if that is what worries you, I don´t want to know, and not only because I respect her privacy. What am I saying, it is not only that - I don´t want those images in my head, otherwise I'll never be able to look Allie in the eye again."

"There are no images in _my_ head either, Anastasia, so you can relax."

The look of relief in her face is mind-blowing. I think I can relate to it, I can understand how the idea would be disturbing to her. At least I can give her that, my full and complete honesty: It's the truth, anyway. I have _never_ caught Allie and her husband in the middle of a BDSM scene. On the other hand, I can´t say for sure that the opposite is also true… As far as I know, they were members for almost as long as I was, and in those early days after my break up with Elena, I was not so obsessed about privacy, and didn´t even care if anyone watched.

"There was nothing scandalous about it," I begin. "Though I know her husband rather well, I only saw her briefly a couple times before today. She was always with him in a club I used to go to sometimes when I was… looking for a new submissive. That is all there was to it. The last time happened about 5 years ago, it was during an ordinary cocktail party to welcome some new members. It wasn´t a scene, I promise you. I am surprised she remembers me."

"You are always a memorable sight, Christian, _anyone_ would remember you," she blurts – only to blush the second she realizes she said the words aloud.

 _It's nothing but a face, Anastasia…_

"Do you think she´ll try to talk to me about it?"

I think for a moment.

"If she follows the rules, she won´t dare. She should come to me first instead."

"Why? Is there is some kind of _chain of command_? Because she thinks you´re my dominant?"

She _thinks?_

 _Miss Steele…_

But I just nod, and she shakes her head.

"This is crazy. Allie is not exactly a by the book kind of person, Christian. You´ve seen her. She is not a rule follower. But how can you be so sure she recognized you? She never said anything."

"She didn´t have to, her body language was more than obvious, don´t you think?" She nods in agreement. "She would never say anything there in public – she probably knows the rules as well as I do," I explain.

"Well, I´m relieved", she sighs. "No dungeons, then?"

"No dungeons, no whips, no chains, no leather and latex – nothing like that. Those are reserved for the more private areas for those who want to play."

"To play?" Her eyes widen. Shit, I must never forget how new all this is someone who has lived in a sheltered cocoon all her life. Until she met me.

She thinks for a moment or two.

"Hold on a second. In those places… I mean, at the club… Do people generally… watch while you do – erhm - _play_?" She sounds appalled.

"Sometimes, if they want to, but only if whoever is playing wants to be watched. Everything that happens there is consensual, Ana, it´s their supreme rule."

"And yours as well."

"It´s everybody´s who are seriously into this shit. So yes, mine too." I return her smile. "But that is not only what it´s all about. You would be surprised to know that some people go there just for the drinks and some stimulating conversation."

She snorts.

"Oh please, Christian. Give this girl a break! It´s a _sex club_ , for crying out loud!"

"I´m serious."

"Why do I find that hard to believe?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Because you probably read too many erotic novels with hunks on the cover." She blushes vividly, and I conclude I hit a nerve, uncovering another one of her innocent secrets perhaps.

 _Guilty pleasures, Anastasia?_

"The always skeptical Miss Steele! You don´t have to, you'll see it yourself. I´ll take you one day, if you are too curious. And I know you are intrigued."

"Hah! That might be another limit for you to push through. I don´t think I´m ready for that one yet…"

 _Good, because I think I am not_ _ready either. Not right now._

"Clubs were never exactly my scene, Anastasia. They were useful to me in the early days when I was learning to do what I do, and before I had my own playroom, but not anymore. Certainly not after I met you. There is never absolute privacy, no matter how tight the rules are, how exclusive the place is. The point is _people always see you_."

I steal a quick glance around, accessing the environment for the first time since our arrival. A minor mistake, but Anastasia can be very distracting. I choose not to tell her this time that I have two bodyguards following us very inconspicuously since we left the hotel. She would probably freak out, but with Jack Hyde on the loose out there, and with me just closing a billion-dollar deal with Vedius Pharma today, I could not afford to be careless.

I look around us for a moment. The place is packed with college students and young couples, but our table is in a secluded little corner, and it is reasonably private. Apparently, we are not attracting any attention, no one is looking at us, and no one was listening to us. They all seemed to be more interested in the young Italian guy with a guitar in the other end of the room, singing – surprisingly, not the same old Italian songs, but modern tunes. I recognize one or two songs by Eros Ramazzotti, a musician I particularly liked.

I feel safe enough to continue.

"I know of only two such clubs in the entire continental US where I feel safe enough. One is in New York, the other is in Seattle, where I saw Allie and her husband."

"Is that where you used to go to find your subs? Or did they all fall ungracefully into your office?"

"No, that was just you. But yes, I met most of them in that club. Those are places where people like me can socialize in a reasonably safe environment, but there are other ways too. Over the years I trained myself to recognize a submissive on sight. I was wrong only once when a certain college undergrad came to interview me in my office not too long ago."

She bites her lips before swallowing more of her wine. She looks up to me again.

 _And every day I wonder if I really was so completely wrong about you, Anastasia._

"Were you never afraid of being exposed? I mean, you´re at the top of the world, a high-profile executive..."

"I know, but I take every precaution I can. Trust me, I don´t spend hundreds of thousands of dollars in security and damage control to cover up my secrets for nothing…"

"Oh gosh!" She gulps.

"What is it Ana?" I cover her hand with mine. Her fingers are icy cold. I don´t like this. "You are pale all of a sudden."

"And you have to ask me _why_?" She pauses for a moment, then drinks a large sip of wine. I refill her glass promptly, and she doesn´t refuse.

"Your past still scares the hell out of me, Christian. I think it always will. I know there is so much you aren´t telling me, and I wonder if I´ll ever be ready to know it all. If something awful like an exposé happened to you… If you end up in the pages of some seedy little tabloid because of… of…"

"My dirty little secret? My life of debauchery? My perverted…" I offer.

She shakes her head.

"Don´t call it that, I hate it. I agree with Flynn about this one, what we do, what you did with your partners, what you do with me in private and consensually should not be anybody´s business. But the possibility just hit me. An exposé would… it could…"

She is at a loss for words.

 _Welcome to my world again, baby!_

I´ve been dealing with the nightmare of that possibility since I was fifteen years old. When I was with Elena, she took care of protecting us, but then when I broke free from her, it was all on me. Sometimes I think that the need to hide my secrets from the world was one of the many driving forces behind my financial success. I can´t possibly imagine how someone, how anyone who doesn´t have the resources I have at hand would be able to hide so effectively.

"Look at me, Ana. Now." She raises her troubled eyes to me. "You don´t have to worry about me. It´s not going to happen. Ever! I take care of it every single day, it´s part of who I am."

"Do you think those NDA´s are enough to protect you?"

"They are not, they never were, it would be naïve of me to think like that. There are other precautions I am used to taking. It is a safety net I´ve built around me with too many layers to count. I am… _we are_ as safe as we can be. But I´m always careful, always on alert, all the time. If I detect any kind of threat, I have people around me whom I trust that can act before anything happens."

She breathes a sigh of relief.

"Taylor…"

"Yes. And my entire security team. I pay them extremely well and I only hire the best of the best."

"Now I get why you don´t like those BDSM clubs. Too risky."

"The one I mentioned is safe enough. It´s not a bad place and I indulged from time to time. We´ll go one day, to broad your horizons. It could be fun."

" _Broaden my horizons?_ Christian… don´t push it! I am letting you hang me from the ceiling and caning me this week. One thing at a time, please."

"One strike only, Anastasia, so that you know what it feels like and only because you asked for it," I gently remind her. "I am _not_ going to cane you, baby. _Ever_."

"We´ll see."

I breathe deeply.

"How can you be sure it's safe enough?"

"The club is private and very, very exclusive. There is a careful screening process and once you are admitted, you have to go through NDA´s and NDA´s about the NDA´s, and so on. It could cost a member a fortune if the secrecy is broken. No one is willing to bet that high."

"When you meet those people you see there outside – it must be awkward for you. I would find very uncomfortable. Does it happen often?"

"No, not really. As a matter of fact, today was the first time in a couple of years. You just get used to it and learn to act naturally. I cross paths with other Doms, Dommes and subs once in a while, it´s inevitable. Men and women. Businessmen like me, politicians, celebrities, athletes, lawyers, doctors, one or two Hollywood actors, a TV newscaster…"

"College professors..." she chimes in.

"You name it. We learn to live in the edge of society, we are fully aware that a BDSM lifestyle is outside every norm, that it can and will be misunderstood by most people. We are protective towards each other."

"You´re almost like vampires!" She laughs mischievously.

"Now that is an interesting comparison. One I think I´ve never heard before."

"No, seriously Christian. There is a parallel there – the taboo, the need for secrecy, the element of the dangerous and the forbidden. You have the whole dynamics, the having power and control, and... Mmm…"

She hesitates, and starts torturing her lower lip again. It seems that she´s having some kind of personal epiphany, not for the first time today, and I long to know what is going on inside that mind of hers. It´s always a fascinating process.

"Oh my," she exclaims, fanning herself.

"Go on, this is interesting. I like to hear you talk about it. I´ve been compared to a heartless bloody sucking creature before, but not in this same context."

"Nothing. I wrote a paper about Bram Stoker's Dracula in my Junior year: "Vampires in Victorian literature". I kind of I know a little too much about this."

"Vampires?" I frown.

"Yep. Why I never made the connection before is beyond me. You see, they are always described as something larger than life. Everything about them is awe-inspiring, their wealth, their beauty, their physical attributes, their sexual expertise. They are ridiculously sexy, undoubtedly dominant, but at the same time dangerous and… protective and… and…"

I decide to finish this for her. I lean forward in my seat. The table is small, so our noses are almost touching.

"Once the evil creature has you where he wants you, he unleashes all his dark powers and make you completely helpless, not knowing where pain ends and pleasure begins… Is that what you were going to say, Miss Steele?"

Again, she bites that lower lip. Hard. Then she frees it, and her tongue darts out to lick it. My breath catches. I´m in awe, completely hypnotized by her, as if our roles are reversed and she is the vampire seductress and I am her prey right now.

"That's… a pretty accurate description, Mr. Grey," she gasps. Next, she shakes her head, as if forcing herself to come back to reality. "Anyway, it´s just, you know, an ordinary female fantasy. We all have them at some point in our lives."

She smiles apologetically, not quite meeting my eyes.

"Is it?"

"I should know that, shouldn´t I? I work in publishing, and, as far as romantic literature goes, basically this is what appeals to the female audience in general. I… What are you doing?"

 _You know very well what I am doing, Anastasia…_

She halts when I touch her luscious lower lip with my thumb, to soothe the sting away. I can see a tiny mark there, her own teeth – that is how hard she bit herself.

"You are very knowledgeable about a lot of things, Miss Steele. I never know when you´ll surprise me like this. It´s stimulating," I say, ignoring her question while keeping my eye on those inviting lips and thinking about what I wanted to do with them – and what I wanted them doing to me right now.

"You mean the p… publishing business?" Her voice is merely a strangled whisper. "I am just following good advice, trying to learn all about what sells and why. Right now, I have a pile of manuscripts waiting in my office that is taller than you. I have to read everything, remember?"

"Including sparkling emo vampires? Seriously?"

"I meant the _female_ audience, not teenagers, Christian. Those are not quite my specialty, SIP targets a slightly more mature audience." She points to me, and the impish look in her eyes should have been a warning. "You should know that, it´s _your_ company now. My boss´s boss´s boss!"

 _Touché, Miss Steele!_

Mmm… It was a point well made. Have I been neglecting SIP, I wonder? Her comment hit a sore spot – once I buy a new company, I never just forget about it and delegate everything to my staff. I _always_ keep an eye on it to make sure my team handles it according to GEH´s superior standards. It is time I begin applying the same work philosophy to my new incursion in the publishing business.

"Your boss´s boss, Anastasia. Hyde is history, remember?" I observe.

"Of course, I remember," Her tone is brittle.

Bad memories…

"It´s called _climbing the corporate ladder_ , Miss Fiction Editor," I add, to bring a little dark humor to the situation – I know she is always incensed when I say things like that.

"So that is how it feels," she says to herself, her tone ironic, her eyes narrowing at me again.

"You tell me, I wouldn´t know, I was always on top."

Her jaw drops at my smug retort.

 _Hey, it´s the truth, plain and simple, baby!_

I think she doesn´t know if she is exasperated or she is about to start laughing her cute little ass off. She does both.

"Christian, you´re incorrigible!" Her eyes roll. "So cocky!"

 _Yes, I know. But you love me, Anastasia, don´t you?_

"Look, I am fully aware that SIP is my business. And it is good business, that is why I bought it." I have to say this, I fucking hate it when I am wrong. "I am also aware that you know more than you think about the book business, and I'm counting on you to keep me updated about the newest trends."

 _Yes, Anastasia, in my mind, Seattle Independent Press is and always will be yours. One of my many gifts to you…_

"Mmm…" she looks skeptical.

My finger traces her delicate jaw and starts a slow descent down her neck, stopping briefly to tease the spot where a vein is pulsing madly – a vampire´s favorite spot.

"We can start with erotic literature, what do you think?"

Her breath catches.

"SIP does not… it doesn't… we don't… I mean, erotica isn't… yet…"

She is panting by the time I reach the edge of her V neck blouse and it follow it, lower and lower… It seems that her blush follows the line I´m tracing.

"A pity," I whisper. "We can change that, of course. Variety is the spice of lif, and that includes any business, don´t you think?"

"Uh? I… Christian, do you realize we are in public?"

I ignore her comment. No one is paying attention to us, anyway.

"I have big plans for SIP, Ana. Very big plans."

"Big… hummm…"

 _Yes. Big._

She catches my hand, just before my finger plunges inside her neckline. She smiles at me wickedly, and then, unexpectedly she bites my thumb. The sting makes me flinch.

"Who is the vampire now, Mr. Grey?"

 _Miss Steele… Always so full of surprises… Oh, but I´m going to make you pay for that one later!_

"Attempting to top me from the bottom again, Anastasia?"

It was always thrilling to watch her try it - the Charlie Tango experience this morning was still very vivid in my mind. It was another thing that reassured me that she was comfortable with me, that she wasn´t afraid anymore. Yes, I enjoyed that, even though I still refuse to surrender control completely and fight hard to regain it.

There it is – that naughty glint in her eyes again.

"Just so that you know, I´m wearing a bra."

An instinctive male response – my eyes lowers down to her chest. Fuck, she has the breasts of a Greek goddess!

I look up into her eyes her again.

"A shame, Miss Steele, but why are you telling me that?"

"Because you are looking at me like you want to remove it with your teeth."

Her voice is slow, paused. Her eyes, unblinking, never leaving mine.

"How do you know?"

"Because I kind of want to do the same with your…"

"With my?..."

" _Tie_."

 _What an apt response, Miss Steele!_

"I miss the feeling of your tie wrapped around my wrists…"

 _That´s better. Oh Ana!_

"That´s easy. I could always turn on my dominant mode and order you to go to the restroom to remove that little bra of yours, while I did the same with my tie."

Her eyes widen.

"Don´t worry, not today. I think we have reached our quota of sex in strange today, don´t you agree?"

"Wholeheartedly!"

"I´ll wait until later. Then I´ll take it off. _With my teeth_."

The presence of the waiter is enough to bring us back to earth. He merely places two artfully decorated tiramisu desserts in front of us and leaves.

Clever guy. I like him – impeccable sense if timing. Yes, I´ll be generous with that tip.

Had he heard anything? Honestly, I don´t fucking care right now. I lean back in my chair again, and reluctantly let go of my seductress, although I still keep her hand firmly in mine.

"What does that mean exactly? Topping from the bottom?" She asks, just before the first spoonful of the delicious coffee flavored cream hits her tongue. She moans in sheer sensual pleasure.

 _And she claims she doesn´t like coffee…_

I´m thinking that at this rate in a minute or two we would have to run back to the Heathman. No, no time for that, the car would have to do. I could find a place to park and…

"Later, Anastasia. I´ll tell you later." I can´t believe how hoarse my voice comes out.

I began attacking my tiramisu with a kind of sensual delight that matches hers. She is right – it was absolutely decadent and delicious. It's simple and it's comforting, just what I needed at the end of this unusual day…

A day that included an intense bout of lovemaking in my helicopter, a friendly takeover, a casual meeting with a college professor who I had last seen inside a high class BDSM club, hiding my secrets in plain sight while buying rope from a guy who was eating Ana with his eyes and telling him exactly what I would be using it for without flinching…

After I am finished with this list, we agree that we need to call it a day. While we are still enjoying Nonna Lucia's notorious tiramisu for dessert, I call Taylor to drive us back to the Heathman.

0000000

 **Next chapter – the playroom!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you all, my reviewers! It seems that the fandom is finding me, and that makes me very happy. Minor spoiler: three more chapters in this story, and they´ll all take place in the playroom.** **This one is M rated, so beware.**

 **Since you are intrigued, another minor spoiler: there will be more about Ana´s college professor, but in my next story, which I´ll hopefully start writing as soon as I finish this one.**

 **See previous chapters for the usual disclaimer.**

 **Have fun!**

 **0000000**

 **Chapter 09**

 **0000000**

" _ **Hurt so good,**_

 _ **Come on baby make it hurt so good,**_

 _ **Sometimes love don't feel like it should,**_

 _ **You make it hurt so good…"**_

 _ **John Mellencamp, Hurt So Good**_

 **0000000**

 _When_?

It just felt awkward to turn to Anastasia during the week and tell her to be at the playroom by seven on Friday night – that was usually when the scheduled time for the fun and games with my previous subs. As the weekend approached, we started circling each other, like a couple of teenagers trying to decide who would make the first step towards their date. Anastasia would sometimes look at me expectantly, her lips moving to ask me a question that never came, her eyes a deep dark blue, her expression telling me she didn´t know when I would just throw her over my shoulder, caveman style, and carry her upstairs to have my wicked way with her, like I´ve done many times before now.

 _Anticipation is the name of the game, Miss Steele._

It isn´t intentional this time. I don´t mean to torture her that way, but I admit that it has his advantages. The truth is that I haven´t told her yet _when_ we would play because I don´t know it myself. I want it to happen naturally, I don´t want it to feel like a scheduled business meeting. I´ve been having too many of those lately, I´m sick and tired of all that shit and all I can dream about is a long vacation in the most isolated place on earth I can find with only Ana next to me.

Of course I can´t afford that right now.

The acquisition of Vedius Pharma by my company unleashed a storm in the market that is being scrutinized by the media, and I am still dealing with the consequences on a daily basis. As it happens with every highly publicized business deal, it is generating new possibilities of even better business deals, and those are keeping me busy as well. There are also meetings to prepare for my scheduled trip to Geneva, which I am not looking forward to at all, no matter how important it is. It will mean leaving Ana behind for several days for the first time since that painful episode that separated us for the longest five days of my entire life.

And, to add to all that, there is the small matter of a certain college professor. Although Anastasia reassured me repeatedly that nothing that the woman revealed could possibly change what she felt about me, I am not entirely certain. I don´t think any bastard with a past like mine would be. There are things I did in my worst days, without caring very much if other people might be watching… I am not sure how Ana will react to that. The sugarcoated version of BDSM I´ve been showing her is nothing compared to the heavier, darker stuff I was into until a relatively recent past.

That is precisely what I brooding about this Friday evening, when I walk into our bedroom after coming from work on Friday evening. My thoughts halt when I see Ana there, fresh from the shower, wearing one of my robes. The dark grey one. She is very fond of it, it is actually more hers than mine nowadays… along with a selection of my shirts and tee-shirts she borrows from me freely.

We just stare at each other for a long moment. Both of us like what we see.

In the old days I would give a sub a hard time for _daring_ to touch my clothes, let alone wear them, with or without my permission, but with Anastasia I don´t mind.

 _I like it_.

Having her wearing my things… it´s one of the many little intimacies I had never experienced before, and now it gives me a certain indescribable feeling I am not able to name yet. Especially when I am not sure what she has underneath my robe, if anything at all.

" _Why don´t you surprise me?_ " I had said to her yesterday when she inquired me about what to wear.

The thought makes my heart run a little faster. Vedius Pharma and Allie Frazier are instantly forgotten.

I simply know that the timing is right.

Perfect.

 _Now._

I give her my hand. She bites her lip before taking it.

No words are needed. No commands. No requests.

 _She knows._

She looks at me with a classic Monalisa smile.

That does it.

I am done. Sold. _Kaput_.

It takes a lot of self-discipline for me not just throw her on the bed and have my way with her right there, forgetting all about choreographed scenes, red ropes and intricate oriental bondage techniques. However, I did not become what I am today by indulging on my most basic whims whenever I feel like it. This happens to be very important to me.

I am still wearing my suit and tie as we walk together to the playroom, hand in hand. I am not planning to wear that during the scene, I´ll change into the usual old pair of tattered jeans and nothing else. Comfort is the operative word today. Tying those ropes around Anastasia´s body, and making sure everything is perfect before I finally lift her will be a lengthy process, it will take me a lot of concentration. I´ll have to be extremely meticulous – I want her safe. The last thing I need is anything restricting my movements and stealing my concentration.

I leave her for a second as soon as I close the door behind us, and when I turn around again…

 _There she is._

My jaw drops.

I expected anything but the sight before my eyes.

The robe is gone. A nastasia is waiting for me, kneeling by the door, wearing nothing but black lace panties. Her hands are flat on her knees, palms up, eyes down, thighs slightly apart. The only difference between now and our first scene a few months ago is that instead of facing the wall, as I had told her to do that first time, she is facing the room today.

She is facing _me_.

She is also shivering slightly, and I know it is not from cold. That I don´t like. While the sight of Anastasia in the most classic of all poses of submission would never fail to stir all my senses at once, the fact that she can´t hide her uneasiness from me does not. I don´t know which feeling is stronger, arousal, anxiety, disquiet, worry, angst, excitement... I am not sure I want to sort it all out right now. I will just go with the flow, and I´ll start by saying the first thing that comes to my mind.

"Anastasia."

She gulps, as the tone of my voice comes out harsher than I intended.

 _Get a hold of yourself, Grey. Go easy, she is not like the others... never was… never will be…_

"You don´t have to do this anymore if you don´t want to. That was before… No rules. You know that, don´t you?" my voice softens.

Yes, there is a slight touch of impatience still lingering in my voice, and I know she still detects it. It´s hardly noticeable this time, but it´s there.

 _She is biting her lip._

My annoyance is not with her, however, it is with me and my own fucked up feelings in a time like this. My total inability to control my own emotions when I seem to have been blessed with extra talent to control all others around me, even when they don´t realize it…

"I know, but I wanted you to…" her voice too is shaking a little, and she clears her throat. "I wanted to do this for you. I don´t know why. I just did it. You said you wanted to be surprised, so…"

 _I wonder if there are other little surprises you stored for me today, Miss Steele…_

The knot of my tie feels tight around my neck and I loosen it.

Anastasia…

Sadist Christian terrifies her, while the dominant beckons her, even though she rebels every time I act like a domineering tyrant outside the bedroom. I was never able to fully control her, and I am sure I never will. What I am still discovering is how _stimulating_ that is. How challenging. I wasn´t expecting that at first, and now I don't think I can live without it. There was the added element of surprise in all things, something I was never able to deal with before, and now I am learning with her on a daily basis. Because I feel _safe_ with her.

Speaking of that element of surprise…

"You´re taking it off?" She asks abruptly, clearly disgruntled. Vaguely disappointed, I should say. _Interesting._ Her eyes are huge, curious. I can tell that the idea has a certain appeal to her. "I mean, you are not going to be wearing a suit and tie while we do this, are you?"

 _Would you like me to, Anastasia? Would you like me to dominate you like this?_

The question is burning at the tip of my tongue.

"No, I´m not," I reply instead, wrapping the grey tie around my wrist – and she doesn´t take her eyes off it. "I´ll change as soon as we get a few things clear first." There is definitely a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, and I promise myself to make up for it as soon as possible.

"Stand up now," I order, as gently as I can possibly manage. She responds to it and does as I asked, not making any effort to hide her relief from being freed from the uncomfortable pose. Her eyes, however, are still lowered, and she seems to be have developed a new fascination with my Italian shoes.

"You don´t have to keep your eyes down either, you can look at me, baby."

I touch her chin lightly for emphasis, and look at me she does, her eyes sparkling with an intensity I´ve seen before only on those few occasions when I pushed through her limits. She is now violently flushed, as if the sheer force of our gazes meeting is suddenly too much for her to bear. But she her eyes never leave mine as she speaks again.

"It´s all a part of the… The _scene_. You know. Me like this, bared for you. I thought you might like it."

"I do. I like it too much."

 _As much as you like the idea of submitting to me in my suit and tie, Anastasia…_

"I love it, and that is usually the problem when we are in here. You know that better than I do."

"Yes, but…" I throw my tie carelessly aside, and she follows it with her eyes.

"Shhh… Quiet…" I touched a finger to her lips. "Just for a sec, OK? Eyes on me for just a moment." She nods, her gaze reluctantly leaves the discarded tie and meets mine again. "I promise, I won´t keep you silent all the time."

"You said I could speak, that I could ask you questions," she argues.

I raise my eyebrows.

"That wasn´t a question."

"Hah hah! Very funny, Mr. Grey." She narrows her eyes at me.

I almost tell her that I wasn´t trying to be funny – I can´t crack a joke to save my own fucking neck! It was merely a statement of a fact, a poor attempt at a witty comeback. But not a joke, my playroom wasn´t a place for that. I wasn´t lying when I told her never joke about the lifestyle.

"Yes, Anastasia, of course you may speak. Just not now. I need a moment here. I need to… to get myself together," I admit finally, pinching the bridge of my nose. Oh hell, if I demand honesty from her at all times, the least I can do is to be honest with her as well.

 _Oh, please, give me a break, Miss Steele. I am still in the middle of some twisted, fucked up learning process… Turning around and finding you half naked in a classic pose of submission did not help me at all. You are about to awake the monster, and to keep him under control is harder for me than you can possibly imagine._

 _Earning my first million was a piece of cake compared to this shit._

"Oh? Oh… I understand."

I take that as an encouragement.

"Being here. With you. Like this. With you like this. In my…"

"I know." she smiles.

"You also know what it´s doing to me, don´t you?"

"I know what it does to you, of course I do. I know where it can take you. And I wouldn´t be here like this, I would never have agreed to this if I didn´t trust you. Go and change now, Christian. Let´s do this."

She sounds angry all of a sudden. Impatient. My breath catches.

"Ordering me about, Miss Steele?"

There is a veiled threat in my voice, and she senses it. I turn around and leave her there, as still as a statue, as I disappear from the room to change into those old jeans. I think I beat some kind of fucking world record as I do it, because I don´t remember getting out of my work clothes so fast before.

I find her sitting at the bed when I return to the room. She straightens and does nothing but gawk at me as I walk to her. Memories cross my mind, but only briefly – what I would say and do to a sub if she dared to move one inch from the place where I left her. Not to mention the fact that she _commanded_ me to go and change my clothes. And I obeyed her…

 _Did I tell you to move? Did I tell you to sit down?_

Punishment would be hard and swift and immediate. Temptation is there, my hands itch – that I can´t deny. But if I start with this now, I´ll probably lose her, and I won´t want to run the risk. I want this too much. _We_ want this too much, and that is the beauty of it.

"Stand up," I command, and she responds to my tone instantly – but not without flinching slightly. "Turn around."

I stand close behind her and begin to work on her hair – I know this had a kind of soothing effect on both of us. I know because it does the same for me. I gather the thick, loose strands, taking the opportunity to massage her scalp with the tips of my fingers.

"Feel good?"

A sigh of sheer pleasure escapes her lips, she throws her head back, almost if searching my fingers.

"You… kind of scared me just now," she whispers.

"Just trying to keep those demons at bay, Anastasia. You know how it works."

"Yep."

Facing her, I lean forward for a brief kiss. I try not to linger for too long, it is not the moment to indulge on that yet. My girl makes it impossible, of course. Her soft lips melt into mine, and I could not tear myself away to save my life. She literally wraps herself around me, her hands grabbing my hair and pulling me to her almost desperately. In the back of her mind, I realize she makes no attempt to touch my chest, even knowing that she would if she wanted to, and that touches that deep chord inside me that only she is able to reach.

"Ana…" I whisper against her lips.

"Hmmm?"

I finally manage to pull away from her. Another second and it would be too late.

"We need to…" She bites into my lower lip. "… take this slowly…"

"I know," she interrupts, giggling. "It looks like I am the one who lost control this time."

"Still with me?" I need the reassurance. She nods and I breath in relief. "Sorry I scared you, baby, I didn´t mean to. But you must tell me whenever I start doing that, OK?" She nods. "Good. Now where were we before you attacked me, Miss Steele?"

"My hair… I think I just ruined your good work, Mr. Grey."

"It was worth it." I fix her now ruined braid quickly and efficiently. "I´ll want your hair like this just for now, it will be easier for me to work. Later, when you are suspended, I´ll want to see it lose."

"Like the model?"

"Just like that. Only more beautiful."

"Yes, sir." Her eyes are down once again. I kiss the soft spot behind her ear before facing her.

"Anastasia, eyes on me now."

I hook my fingers to the edges of her lace panties. No plain white cotton this time – those were from an exclusive collection from _Bordelle_ and the price tag on them would be enough to give her a fit. You see, I never told her that the myriad of tiny crystals artfully embroidered across the front and back of that small scrap of fine silk were actually diamonds. She would kill me if she knew, so I´ll keep it a secret for the time being. All a part of my wicked plan to cover her with precious stones...

"Oh no, don´t rip it please. Those are my favorites. I love them."

"I´ll buy you another."

"But I happen to be very fond of this one, thank you."

 _Oh, the defiance!_

"Maybe I won´t rip them this time, but I need to know what you are thinking, what you are feeling. Don´t hide from me. Not today."

Before hearing her reply, I give her panties a sharp tug upwards, and she flinches. Yes, I have her full attention now. Her eyes clash into mine immediately.

"This has to go, OK?"

"OK," she whispers, "Just don´t…" but I am already lowering the flimsy piece of lingerie down her legs, fighting against the urge to just rip them from her body, must like I did with the ones she was wearing on Charlie Tango.

"Oh. OK," she sighs relieved, as soon as she realizes her favorite panties are safe.

I look up, letting my gaze travel through her body for the first time. And then I see it.

For the second time that evening, I stop breathing.

 _Another surprise._

 _Oh Anastasia! What else have you in store for me?_

Let me just say that she wasn´t lying when she said she was bared for me. Her natural body hair never bothered me before, quite the contrary, and in fact I needed her just like this today. I only didn´t have the guts to ask for what I wanted this time – she would be dealing with too many firsts today already, I didn´t need to add a new one and cause more unnecessary stress. So much for needless worrying – she will never cease to amaze me!

"Speechless, Mr. Grey?"

The minx!

 _Speechless_ is an understatement. I´m in awe, I´m… I cannot form a coherent two-word phrase to reply to her. If I risk it, I´ll just babble like a fucking idiot.

 _Her eyes. Focus on her eyes for a moment…_

"Breathe, Christian…"

Oh, the irony of it!

"Anastasia Steele, you are fucking amazing," I whisper. "When… How?"

She is answering me, but I hardly listen. When I finally gather my wits together to make sense of what she is saying, I realize that she too is trying to disguise her nervousness by rambling incessantly, instead of becoming tongue-tied.

"… the most painful and humiliating experience of my entire life. I´m not doing this again. _Ever._ "

 _It doesn´t have to hurt, baby, there are other ways…_

"I´ll do it for you," I blurt out without thinking.

That silences her.

Yes, I would. I will. The thought of any other human being, man or woman, seeing Anastasia like that, touching the most intimate parts of her does not appeal to me. I can handle an occasional doctor´s appointment, but this… _this is mine!_

Yes, I definitely will. Is she wants to. If she asks me to.

 _Focus, Grey!_

I place a swift kiss just above her mound – I´ll save that most intimate of kisses for later, I am planning to enjoy her final surprise for me fully and thoroughly. Then I look up at her again. My eyes follow a path down her beautiful body as I kneel down, from her neck, down to her breasts, her belly, the apex of her thighs… her sex, her legs. Wherever my gaze wanders, goosebumps in her skin follow. I sigh deeply, and smile. This is no longer fear or anxiety. This is arousal. I can feel it, I can see it, I can smell it.

I nearly shout my relief.

Placing a hand on my shoulder for support, she raises one foot, then the other, as I completely remove her one piece of underwear and throw it aside. It lands next to my discarded tie. What an interesting vision that is…

"Where do you want me?" she asks. "How should I…"

"Bed." I say simply.

"OK."

A cold hard floor was what I offered my previous subs when I was in the mood for some rope bondage. I never offered them a choice, and they knew what to do in case they strongly objected it. None of them ever did, I was always careful to match their masochistic personalities with my sadistic one when I made my selection. It was pretty well established that Anastasia was not one of those women, nor she will ever be. No hard, cold floors for her, but that soft, large bed in the center of the playroom instead. This was no longer about me, this was about her. She would be more comfortable while I was tying the ropes around her body. She would be safer in case something went wrong when she was suspended – her fall would be cushioned by a soft mattress. Not that I´ll _ever_ let her fall. Yes, I am extremely confident about this. I know what I am doing.

"Come with me."

Taking her hand, I guide her to the bed.

"Lie down. On your back."

Wordlessly, she obeys me. I place a small pillow below her head, and another one below her knees.

"Comfortable?" I ask, with an amused wink.

"Yes, master. Very."

"Anastasia…" I have use my stern Dom´s voice again.

"What?"

"Behave!" I pat her hip lightly with the back of my hand, as a reminder that my twitchy palms were always alive and kicking. "You have no idea how distracting this can be."

"Sorry," she says, swallowing up one of her giggles. "I´ll try to be good."

 _Good._

"What do I do now? Should I just lie here and let you do all the work?"

I´m happy she is back to being whimsical Anastasia with her smart mouth. She is trying to relax, which is good.

"Yes. You just lie there and let me do all the work."

She sighs and thinks for a moment.

"Mmm…"

"What is it?"

"I´m just wondering. Do you think I would make a good dominant?"

I was taken aback by her completely unexpected question – there was one possibility I had never, even considered before, except, perhaps, in the darkest, deepest recess of my mind only days ago when we christened Charlie Tango. Those first few moments when she did not let me remove my safety belt... she appeared a little too much delighted when I tricked her and loosened the harness myself, a reaction she would never have if she were a Domme at heart.

"The word you´re looking for is Dominatrix. And the answer is no."

 _Over. My. Dead. Body._

"How do you know?"

"There are things someone like me notices. Little things. Signs."

Her preference to have me on top of hers, for starters, not to mention a few other giveaways.

"You mean you have a sub radar or something?"

 _Sub radar?_

"Or something," I smirk.

"You know, you may be right about that one. Although you make me want to wring your neck from time to time, I don´t see myself beating you into submission."

"Definitely not your thing, Miss Steele. Trust me, you are not a Domme."

"Happy to know that!"

 _So am I, Miss Steele. You have no idea how much!_

"It doesn´t mean we can´t play…," I murmur, "… in the future."

"Oh?"

 _Wait – hang in there! What did I just…_

"Let us say, in ten years or so," I add quickly. "Well, maybe twenty years. But warn me first, because I´ll have to drink myself to oblivion first."

"OK!"

 _Uh?_

Sometimes she is so transparent! Her whole face relaxes, and she smiles. Maybe it was my statement, indicating that I plan to have her by my side ten, twenty years from now.

 _Forever._

 _Yes, Anastasia. That is the plan. I want that._

 _Very much._

"I wouldn´t do that to you, anyway. Stow away your twitchy palms, Mr. Grey."

"They are stowed. For the moment, Anastasia."

"I was merely gathering elements for my upcoming best seller, you know. Ana´s Guide to the Inexperienced Sub. The final chapter: How to unleash your inner Dominatrix."

"I don´t think I´ll like that chapter very much," I frown.

"How about this." She glances down her nude body, as if suddenly remembering her nakedness. "Chapter 7: What to wear to a suspension." She snorts nervously. " _Nothing._ This one will be a very short chapter." The lovely sound of Anastasia giggling fills the playroom again.

I wonder briefly if, without the aid my usual means – and by that I mean my extensive collection of floggers, riding crops, whips and canes - I will ever be able to make Anastasia feel comfortable with her nudity. At the same time, part of me finds that lingering shyness of her stimulating – another thing that has always annoyed the hell out of me before in a woman – I have immediately discarded potential subs before because of that trait.

I take a moment just to look at her.

Although visibly mortified, Anastasia is indeed wearing nothing but the pair of tiny diamond studs on her ears - the first piece of jewelry I gave her that she received with genuine pleasure. She never the earrings off since the day I gave them to her last Monday in Portland. The small stones were barely there, and yet they sparkled furiously whenever the smallest beam of light hit them.

My beauty is now lying supine on the bed, her legs straight, her arms stretched to her side. I gaze at her in wonderment. So proud, so brave. She is still, except for her toes, which she wiggles nervously. I cannot chastise her for that, my own hands are unusually unsteady, and I feel them shaking slightly as I reach for the coils of the red rope I will be using.

Yes, this will be another breakthrough for us. If I succeed, we´ll be on our way to achieving a compromise between my needs and hers, my fears and hers. On the other hand, if fail, I may lose her again. That is no longer an option.

Grimacing, I hit the play button on my IPad. Every detail of this scene has been carefully designed, carefully planned. Even the music – especially the music. I wanted her to have the choice of being distracted by it, of being transported to another time and place, and, at the same time, I wanted something that would not get in the way in case she decided to talk to me, or distract me too much while I worked. Not an easy task. I choose an old favorite of mine today: Rimsky-Korsakov´s Shéhérazade. You can never go wrong with the classics!

She jumps a little when I place the first two of several rolls of rope I would be using next to her right arm. For a long moment, she stares at the red coils as if it were evil pythons ready to attack her. Then she bites her lip, close her eyes for a moment, turns her head and stares at the ceiling again.

 _Yes, this is real, baby. This is happening._

 _My brave Anastasia._

I opted for the synthetic fiber rope, one I had used before with her. Having her beautiful skin chaffed by the rough natural fiber wasn´t an option for me. Besides, I like the contrast between the red rope and her alabaster skin.

"Blindfold?" I offer, thinking that never before I had given a sub that choice.

"What?"

"Would you like that?"

"No, I´ll be fine," she replies shakily.

"Are you sure, Ana? This is one of those circumstances when not being able to see might be helpful."

"Yes, I´m sure. But I want to see… everything that you are doing. Not being able to will only make me more nervous. At least I want to see everything… I want to see. If things get too intense I can always close my eyes… Oh what am I saying, it´s always intense, being here with you…"

"Anastasia?"

"Yes?"

"You´re rambling again."

"OK. No blindfold. For the moment. Please. _Sir_."

"Good."

Her eyes close momentarily. Slowly, I walk to another corner of the playroom, and select one of my weapons of choice. Now this is the tricky part. I am picking one she is particularly intrigued about. I am not sure yet if I am going to use it, or how, but I think bringing it to the scene will give it a nice touch, even if I don´t do anything with it. The threat might be enough to rattle her.

 _Yes, I´m a sadistic bastard._

My back is to her and my body hides most of my motions, so that she has no clue about what I am doing. When I turn around her eyes are closed, though I had felt them burning holes in my back a second earlier. I drop my weapon of choice next to her left arm, it lands with a thump near her hand. She startles and looks at it.

 _The cane._

It used to be my favorite, but not only because among all tools, it was the one likely to cause the highest degree of pain – the main trigger to get me off in my pre-Anastasia days. Oh, the things I could do with it with a willing sub! There was a certain ritual, a certain mysticism attached to the cane, something that every experienced BDSM practitioner was aware of and something that Anastasia might have come across in one of her researches – otherwise she wouldn´t be so drawn to it, practically begging me to use it on her _just once_.

 _Just one strike,_ she had said, she had made me promise. What she had no idea yet was that _just one strike_ might be too much for her. I am still not sure exactly how I´ll work around that.

 _But again, it doesn´t mean we can´t play…_

Because like every other instrument in the playroom, it was more about the psychological torment and fear as than the actual beating, making the submissive wait in anticipation… All it would take was a skilled dominant – which I can safely say that I am, it is something I was never modest about.

I wonder how would Anastasia respond to that kind of play. Right now, her eyes are impossibly wide, her pupils dilated. Her breathing becomes increasingly erratic.

 _Oh shit, she is not about to panic, is she?_

"Safe word, Anastasia?"

She starts shaking her head furiously.

"No. I don´t need one. I´m not using it. I´m doing this."

"You still need to have them, I won´t proceed otherwise. What are they?" I say, my voice firm and sure. In my experience, it tends to calm the submissive when she is about to snap. It reminds her that I am in control, and she is safe because of that. It reminds her that she has a choice.

"Christian!"

"Anastasia?"

My final warning.

I would hate to abort the scene because of something so ridiculously stupid, but if I have to, I will. And it works, because she finally senses how important this it to me.

"Fine. The usual. Yellow and red," she replies weakly.

"You´re sure?" The memories linked to those words aren´t exactly pleasant for either of us, and I am surprised she has chosen the same ones again.

"Yes. I can´t think of anything else right now."

I pick up the cane again, gripping the handle so tightly my knuckles turn white. I had to. It was the only way to keep her from noticing that my hands were shaking. I stare at the rod for a while – it was my favorite kind, a dragon cane about 50 inches long, with a beautiful silver handle shaped like a very menacing dragon´s head. Very flexible and virtually unbreakable. Her eyes close as if in a silent prayer, and I just had to smile.

"Oh crap," is her near silent whisper, and I doubt she realizes she´d said it aloud.

I know her well by now, I know her head must be filled with self-recriminating thoughts and deep conversations with that inner goddess of hers. _You asked for this Anastasia,_ she must be telling herself, _now deal with it_.

"Remember, it´s your call," I remind her gently. "You know the drill. Safe word or no safe word, I´ll stop any time you want me, all right? Just tell me. No questions asked, no regrets. I won´t be mad, I won´t be disappointed. We can try this again or never, the choice is always yours."

"Okay," she says, opening her eyes again. Her breathing calmed, at least she wasn´t panting anymore.

 _Good._

"We´re going to have to work together, do you understand?" She only nods, her lips trembling slightly, betraying her nervousness. I flex the rod and let it snap with a loud swish. She jumps.

 _Beautiful!_

I always loved that sound. I still do.

"Wow!"

"Tell me you understand, Anastasia."

"Yes, sir."

 _Good girl._

I drop the cane again – it did his job quite effectively, and I didn´t even have to touch her skin with it.

Yes, I could work with that.

" _Shibari_ is not about the pain, it´s mostly about restraint," I lecture. "It is not supposed to hurt, the knots and the ropes should stimulate you. The pressure should be pleasant, not painful. Think of them as an extension of my hands."

"I like that," she says in a shy voice, smiling for the first time – and clearly relieved that I no longer gripping the wicked dragon cane. "Your hands… I like that very much."

"You need to tell me if anything starts to get uncomfortable, it is essential that you do that, because that is not the point of it. It means I am doing something wrong, but I won´t know unless you tell me. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Relax. Enjoy this. Try not to be so nervous. It´s only me, Ana." Her skeptical side glance told me that _I_ was precisely the problem. "I know what I am doing. I´ll check everything as many times as possible before I raise you."

I kneel down next to her, and I take her face in my hands.

"This is different, for a number of reasons, the main one being that we are pushing through some of your hard limits. Communicating is important. If I do anything that you don´t like or that makes you feel uncomfortable, I must know."

"Tell me about it! That little demonstration of your impeccable skills with the cane… I almost…"

I smiled softly.

"Come on, you liked that, didn´t you?"

Her face is crimson, and she is blushing in places I swear I didn´t know she could blush.

"I know," I continue, without waiting for an answer. I don´t need one, I just need to look at the reaction down her beautiful body. "Considering what we´ve been through before, we´re certifiably crazy, you and I. At least I am!"

"Christian, I trust you…"

"Sshhhh." I place one finger on her lips to silence her for a moment. I need her full attention for this. "I know this is different. I also know you´ll say you didn´t even know suspension was a hard limit when you first heard of it, but you listed it as such for a reason. An unconscious reason, perhaps. I want you comfortable, I want you relaxed, this will never work otherwise. Ask as many questions you want, talk about anything. There will be no secrets from you, I promise. I may need you to be quiet for a moment or two if I need to concentrate, but I´ll let you know, OK?"

"OK," she whispered.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

 _And so it begins…_


	10. Chapter 10

**Only one more chapter to go after this one. Since it´s only partially written, it might take a while until the next update - sorry about that, but I´ll do my best to finish it as soon as possible. In the meantime, I hope** **you´ll be happy with this one.**

 **They are still in that playroom, so that means another M rated chapter. This time, Christian will uncover one of Ana´s secrets. This is not in any of the books, I just imagine something that could have happened.**

 **Thank you for those reviews - you people are amazing, and you really keep me inspired to continue. Hopefully, there will be more stories in the future!**

 **See chapter 01 for the usual disclaimer and... I hope you have fun!**

 **0000000**

 **Chapter 10**

" _ **I'll be your keeper for life as your guardian,**_

 _ **I'll be your warrior of care, your first warden,**_

 _ **I'll be your angel on call, I'll be on demand,**_

 _ **The greatest honor of all as your guardian…"**_

 _ **Alanis Morisette, Guardian**_

 **0000000**

I don´t know how long I worked, time simply loses its meaning when I am deeply engrossed in something like this. Something that, frankly, I love doing. Perhaps I've been working for an hour, maybe more, maybe less.

Keeping my fucking demons under a tight leash is always an exercise in discipline and self-control.

I´ll always hate it when I have to acknowledge my own weaknesses to _anyone,_ including myself, but it is not easy for me to remain detached and objective today. That is a novel experience for me. Yes, I know I´ve brought Ana to the playroom many times before, but this... there is an element of danger that goes beyond the physical. I can´t not afford to lose my mind even for a second. The media loves to say that I have a laser focus as far as business is concerned. Well, let us see if there is any truth to one of their favorite statements about Christian Grey.

The truth is that the physical attraction I felt for each of my former submissives pales in comparison to what I feel about Anastasia Steele. It is fucking _nothing_. So much that today, if I try to remember the fifteen faces of those women, I get nothing but a blur, even with my near eidetic memory. One look at her was enough to wipe them all.

 _Which makes it only harder to control myself around Anastasia…_

Nevertheless, I need to be able to do that today, otherwise mistakes can happen, and those could be dangerous when trying something like rope bondage. And so, I had to force myself not to react every time she sucks in her breath when the ropes or my fingers brush against the more sensitive areas of her body. Every time she moans. I have to pretend not to notice, for instance, when her flush deepens when I ask her to part her legs to rearrange the ropes and the knots down her thighs. All I can do is to flash her a knowing smile or soothe her with a kiss on her forehead or a few calming words.

And I have to do all that ignoring my own reactions…

I work quietly most of the time – the laser focus shit, remember? I speak only when I have to tell Anastasia to move this or that way, to turn her around or to soothe or encourage her whenever I feel that it's necessary. Contrary to what she said her intent was, she remains silent most of the time, and her questions, if she indeed has any, remained unspoken.

That alone makes me restless.

Is she too overwhelmed?

Probably so, but she appears to be relaxed, her breath slow and even, even if it catches from time to time when I have to touch her in a more sensitive place. She only watches me work, transfixed, only speaking to answer my brief questions. Her hands are still free, I am saving those for last, but she hardly moves them. She appears almost mesmerized by what I am doing to her, the art I am creating on her body.

Is this hurting you? Is it too tight? How does it feel? Is it uncomfortable? Does it tickle?

She has learned by now that when we are in the playroom I prefer her replies to my questions to be verbal, rather than mere nods or moans. There is no room for dubious interpretation here, not with Anastasia. Her answers today are always short and precise, "yes sir"s and "no sir"s, the "sir"s and the occasional whimsical "master"s being added to my benefit. I don´t complain, she doesn´t seem to mind the use of a little Dom/sub protocol. She is almost too serene, too compliant, a near perfect submissive. However, Ana being Ana, I know that her unusual quietness hints at the possibility of a storm hovering just beneath the surface. Her body maybe quiet, but I am sure her mind is working furiously. And me being me, I need to know what is going on.

"Am I boring you, Miss Steele?" I ask at some point, when my uneasiness becomes too much for me to bear. I have to break her silence, it is suddenly too oppressive.

She giggles. Now, that´s better!

"No, _sir_. No, you'll never bore me. It is always fascinating to watch an expert doing what he does best, Mr. Grey. You´re so intense when you are doing this!"

 _Right. She does read me like one of her fucking books! I can only wish I had the same ability as far as she was concerned…_

" _Intense._ Am I?"

"More so than usual, you´re all Mr. Triple-D today."

"Triple-D?" I inquire. Anastasia and her knack for playing havoc with words.

"Dark, dangerous and dominant. Very tempting, if you ask me."

"Really, Miss Steele? Even the dominant part?"

"That goes without saying in my current predicament."

"You left _tall_ out of your equation," I point.

"Height is merely a physical trait, it´s more… _in your face._ You are a pleasantly tall man, all one has to do is too look at you to realize that. The D´s are more interesting and less obvious unless one is close enough to you, although it took me about five seconds in our first meeting to realize all of that."

 _Interesting, Miss Steele._

"There it is again," she says, and with one of her free hands she touches that spot between my eyebrow and my nose that seemed to intrigue her so much.

I grab her hand and kiss the tip of the fingers that just touched my skin. I take her ring finger between my teeth and bite it very lightly she hisses.

"Why do you keep touching me there, in that particular spot?" I ask her. "You´ve been doing that a lot lately."

"You noticed?" _I always do, baby._ "Don´t you know?"

"I´m intrigued, Anastasia."

"It´s a dead giveaway. Perhaps I shouldn´t tell this, but it is one of my clues. It tells me when you are about to enter that Dom mode of yours." She tries to touch me there again and I grab her hand.

So, I have a fucking tell, do I? Interesting – and annoying as hell. I am not sure I like that very much. Perhaps that is how Elena knew when I was about to snap and rebel against her on those occasions when she would punish me viciously _before_ I said or did anything. _Fuck,_ I would have been more careful if I knew that.

Well, that is the kind of information I like to save for future reference!

"I didn´t know I had a telltale sign. Very observant, Miss Steele, as usual."

"And very, very attractive, Mr. Grey. Please don´t lose it. When you are frowning like that I never know if I want to jump on you or run and hide…"

 _Anastasia Steele and her disarming honesty…_

"However," she goes on, "since I can do neither right now, I content myself with just gawking at you. I love watching your competent hands at work while you have that intense look in your face. I think I may have taken a short, preliminary excursion to subspace."

I stop what I am doing – I´m finishing on the knots on left ankle now - and raise my eyebrows at her as I straighten myself.

"Subspace?"

"Yes."

"Not yet, Anastasia. Not yet." She looks disappointed, and I pause for a moment or two. "From what you told me before we began, I expected you to be a chatterbox, challenging me every step of the way. I never thought I would ever say this, but I miss more than just the sound of your voice. I crave your defiance, Miss Steele. Although I have to admit those last words of your more than made up for it."

"Are you disappointed?" She frowns at me. "Am I not acting as I should? I am never sure about those crazy protocols yet."

"I don´t give a fuck about BDSM protocols with you, Ana." I sound harsher than I intend to, and a shadow crosses her eyes for a moment. "You always act as you should, baby, and that is one of the many things I´ll always love about you. You have a mind of your own, and what a mind it is! No, I´m not disappointed, I´m just surprised. It´s just that you´re not usually so…"

"Compliant? Accommodating?"

 _Miss Steele and her long words…_

"Submissive?"

 _Bingo!_

A little sardonic smile is my only answer to her as I shake my head.

"How is this one?" I ask, running my finger under a knot just above her ankle.

"Mmm… A little too tight perhaps," she answers.

"We can´t have that, can we?" I wink. "This is a tricky spot…"

That is how her answers have been so far, downright honest and precise. That is good. I can trust her about that, about letting me keep her safe and not hurting her in any way. A knot that is too tight may seriously harm her when I tighten the ropes to begin the suspension. Gravity is always a bitch.

I lose the knot just a fraction.

"Better now?"

"I think so."

"Good. Don´t worry, we´ll test everything again before I start lifting you."

"So you keep telling me all the time, but I´m not worried, not for a single moment. I feel safe with you here, Christian. Clearly you know what you´re doing. Gosh, it´s weird, but I think I´ve never felt safer."

"That is exactly what I am aiming for, Miss Steele."

Standing up, I stretch my spine and my arms a bit, just before starting the last part of my work – tying her hands in front of her. Not behind her back this first time – I don´t want her to feel too vulnerable or helpless. I saved that for last – in the past, it was usually the first thing I did – I never wanted to run the risk of having the woman touching me where they shouldn´t, accidentally or not. God knows I´ve had more than my share of people touching me _by accident._ The very thought of it still makes me sick to my stomach. There is one touch I´ll ever be able to tolerate, and that is Anastasia´s.

"I don´t even mind that diabolical _thing_ next to me anymore," she says, turning her head to gaze at the elephant in the room, the cane still lying next to her on the bed. I didn't even have to ask what _thing_ she was referring to.

"That diabolical _thing_ is called a dragon cane," I explain. "You seemed to be particularly obsessed about what they could do to you lately."

"You mean about what _you_ could do to _me_ with one of those, Mr. Grey. Your short demonstration one hour ago was very illustrative, if you ask me. Straight to the point."

"That is how I work, Miss Steele. I´m glad my efforts were appreciated."

"In Chinese mythology, dragons are such benevolent creatures. Why would one name a device used only to inflict pain after them?"

 _Pain and pleasure, Miss Steele. Let us not forget about the pleasure…_

Apparently, we´re back to dealing with her little obsession with semantics now.

"I really have no idea," I admit. "This one is slightly different than an ordinary cane, I´ll tell you some other time. There is a lot of history behind those things, you´d be amazed. They are fun!"

I chose not to tell her how vicious and nasty those things are, and that they are likely to produce more pain than a regular cane. A _lot_ more. A sadist's delight, my favorite among all punishing devices until a very recent past.

" _Fun_? Ouch! It depends on who has the handle, I guess. That is a very wicked looking one you have there. I don´t like the way that silver dragon stares at me with those ruby red eyes."

I smirk.

"Tell me about it now," she insists. "Enlighten me!"

 _Does she have to say the words that started it all?_

No, I don´t think that is a safe subject for now, I don´t want her to have any reason to start feeling all shaky again. She trusts me, she feels safe. No need to rattle her right now.

"Not here, not now. Some other time. I think that might be too much of a distraction. For both of us. Well, for me more than for you, I think."

"And I think I might need some kind of distraction."

"Not this kind, you don´t. Let us save that story for some other time."

Then I have an idea, a sudden burst of inspiration.

"It´s your turn now, Miss Steele, this works both ways. _You_ tell me something I don´t know. Something about you."

"What? About _me?_ My repertoire of colorful stories is not quite as vast as yours. That is one thing about me that hasn't changed since the day I met you, all my outrageous tales involve you."

 _And it will remain that way as long as we are together, Anastasia…_ I don´t linger upon that thought for long. The idea that one day we would be apart again, that she would find happiness in another man´s arms was too painful to consider.

 _Forever, Ana._

"We all have our secrets, and we've been addressing too many of mine lately. Tell me one of yours," I whisper, leaning closer to her ear taking her hands in mine. "Come on, Anastasia. Give me your best shot. _Spill._ "

"A secret?" she whispers back. "You wanna hear a secret? _My_ secret?"

"Yes." I start coiling the rope around her wrists, very slowly. She gulps, and looks down at what I am doing.

"Why is my skin so sensitive? Almost painfully so, although it´s a good kind of ache."

 _Nice tactics, Miss Steele._

To deviate from an unwanted subject being atypically verbose and providing me with information she knew would interest me…

 _Clever!_

Because that certainly got my attention.

 _I liked it. I liked that I was the only man who could do that to her._

 _The first man._

I stop what I am doing immediately, laying her hands against her stomach, and stare at her for a long moment.

"A _shibari_ master would say it´s because the ropes and the knots are stimulating the right nerve endings, inducing the flow and transfer of the chi energy inside your body… You know, that kind of shit," I explain.

"Mmmm. All right. You´re doing it right, obviously, you always do. But you don´t buy that, otherwise you wouldn´t resort to a little profanity to explain it. What do you _really_ think, Mr. Grey?"

 _I think it is because you are bordering an extreme state of sexual arousal right now, and you can´t wait to see where pushing through those limits of yours will do to you… and to me._

"To put it simply, it means I´m doing my job right, and that so far I haven´t fucked up. I´ll tell you more after you tell me one of your secrets," I wink.

"Just one?" Her eyebrows raise.

 _Wait – there are more?_

 _Oh Anastasia, don´t do that to me!_

 _I don´t like that. Not at all. I fucking don't!_

"One. That´s all I ask for now."

"You never play fair, do you?"

"You are still a mystery to me, Miss Steele."

"You are the master of all my secrets, Christian. You know everything that matters about me. Otherwise I would not have come to you with my virtue intact," she says, attempting to sound a bit theatrical.

 _Yes, you do._

"Seriously, never mind the purple prose, what I am trying to say is that my life was a blank canvas before I met you, you know that."

"None whatsoever?" I insist. "No secrets? No dark fantasies? No sinful and naughty dreams?"

She licks her lips, as if she is choosing her next words carefully.

"Christian."

"Yes?"

"I am lying naked in black satin sheets in a huge bed in a red room of pain surrounded by floggers, whips and canes, tied up from head to toe with red ropes and about to be suspended from the ceiling by a sadistic dominant and wondering what the hell he will do to me while I am completely helpless up there."

 _Oh yes, baby. But do you really, really believe that this is the worst I could do to you in a playroom? Oh Ana, if you knew how innocent you still are about this dark world of mine!_

I am tempted to say all that, but I remain quiet. I think nothing but a wicked smirk betrays my inner thoughts. She narrows her eyes a little – she does that whenever I start getting in her nerves - when she notes the self-satisfied look in my face. I can´t help it.

"So you think this is the worst that I could do to you in here?" I finally ask.

"Christian, I may be inexperienced, but I am not that naïve."

 _All right, baby, I´ll take your word for that…_

"I know it isn´t. But in my book, that qualifies as sinfully dark and naughty, don´t you agree?" she finishes.

"No." My reply is curt and abrupt.

 _I´ll show you dark and naughty one of these days, Anastasia. If you let me…_

She sighs.

"Even if I had anything to tell you, it would pale in comparison to this."

"Well, considering from your perspective Miss Steele…"

She doesn´t let me finish.

"Why the skepticism? I´m not hiding anything from you, I never have."

 _Ooops – slow down, Grey!_

I was so caught up in my own inner analysis of what she was saying that I did not realize that I was getting on her nerves. Again.

So, I try to fix it.

"I don´t mean to imply that you´re hiding anything from me, Ana, I never have," I begin. "But, admit it, there are things you just don´t talk about, even when I pry."

"I really can´t think of anything like that, Christian." She sounds sincere.

If I were a gentleman, I would leave her alone and stop prying right now. But I am not, at least not at the moment. I am too concerned about her safety to be bothered with that. The fact that the subject doesn´t even come to her mind is a relief to me, in away – if it was any kind of traumatic event, I am sure she wouldn´t be able to hide from me.

"Carla´s third husband." I fire, making an effort to sound innocent and detached, when in fact the subject has been occupying my mind for a few days now, and that I have been trying to lead her gently into it for the past few minutes.

"Oh. _Him_." Her hands clench and unclench. "Ewww…"

"Stephen M. Morton. The one with an untouchable Harley in the garage. Tell me more."

"Christian, I… I know so little. I only ever met him a handful of times." She sounds annoyed.

No, she definitely doesn´t like talking about it. The question is _why_.

"Come on, I still have the knots in your hands and arms to work on, we have time. Indulge me, please."

She stares at the ceiling.

"My mom, who doesn´t know the meaning of a secret, never talks about him. Never."

"Does she have any reason to ignore his existence?"

"I don´t know. Honestly?"

 _Oh, come on, Ana!_

"Yes?"

"I´m afraid that you´ll probably have your people looking into him after I tell you what I know, and I am not sure how I feel about… Wait. Oh crap! You are _already_ looking into him, aren´t you?"

A shrug and a little smile are my only answers. She knows me too well. My people, as she calls them, are already doing their work. They have been after our conversation Monday morning. I only don´t know what they found yet…

"Oh God, you´re unbelievable," she knows.

"I just want you safe, Ana, I need you safe. The idea of anyone hurting you in any way is worse than any torture to me. If I have the means and the power to minimize any risks out there, I will not hesitate to use them. Yes, I am insanely obsessive about it, it drives me crazy, and yes, I am working on it. Fucking difficult because I am also insanely and obsessively in love with you, but I am trying. Now, please, just tell me."

Her hands were tied already, but I lowered them again, keeping them relaxed against her stomach, covering them with mine. She sighs, and then she pulls her tied hands and places them above mine.

"OK." I close my eyes in relief at her compliance. "I can do that. I can tell you, it's not much anyway but please, _please_ – don´t freak out."

 _Wait! Oh shit!_

 _My instincts were not wrong, there is something there…_

"Why should I freak out?" I try to sound calm, but my heart is racing. All of a sudden, I am almost afraid about what she will reveal me.

She swallows.

"They were married for a few months only. He never… touched me or abused me, if that is what worries you. I don´t know about my Mom, and the idea terrifies me when I think about it, but I was fine."

 _Why doesn´t that completely reassures me?_

"But there is more than that, isn´t there?"

"Well… I don´t know. He was a charming, handsome man, but he just made me uneasy," she begins, and I let her speak without interrupting. "I was so young, it was the Summer before my senior year in high school. When he first met me, he showered me with attention spoiling me and pampering me, buying me gifts… books and such, little things that he knew I loved because my mother told him. I thought back them he was trying to buy my affection – I was a very surly teenager during those days. I was skittish, I didn´t soften towards him because of that, not at all. I didn´t take it too well when Mom and Ray split up after so many years together. I think I never did. Maybe because I was so fond of Ray and never really understood why their marriage fell apart. We lived in Montesano at the time, and when she asked me if I wanted to move to Texas with her and Steve or stay with dad I didn´t even hesitate, I decided to stay. I went to visit them only once down in Texas, right after Christmas. Just before she divorced him. It was when… when the strangest thing happened." She stopped, biting her lower lip - the eternal giveaway.

"What happened?"

"One or two days after my arrival, he forgot to shut down his computer as he usually did before leaving for work. No one used it but him, my Mom told me not to touch it, but I… oh well. I needed one because of a school assignment I had to work on during my Winter break, so I thought I could use his. There was an icon with my name on it, so I clicked. There were some pictures of me while I was sunbathing in the backyard... sleeping…"

" _Fuck_ , Ana!" I feel the blood draining from my face instantly, my hands went to the top of hers again and I held tight.

"I was hardly more than a child, appallingly innocent even for a seventeen year old, and in my mind I thought I looked, oh well, _nice_ , so I called my Mom to show them to her. She started screaming – I never heard her screaming like that before, she never as much as raised her voice to me. I didn´t understand what was going on. She just assured me I had done nothing wrong, and the next thing I know she puts me on a plane back to Washington that same day. When Steve came home from work I was already on my way. I never saw or heard from him again." She pauses before finishing her story. "She joined me in Montesano a few weeks later, when their divorce was already final. But she never spoke of him again, and if I wanted to see her boiling mad at me I only had to mention him. Which is something I didn't do very often because the sound of his name still makes me sick to the stomach."

"He was a fucking pedophile!" No wonder she resented Elena so much when she first heard my story. No wonder she sees red when anyone mentions her name. "Shit!"

I start cursing, and several more four letter words from my colorful vocabulary followed. I leave her for a moment and start pacing around the red room, my hands running through my hair, pulling it from the roots. I kept some distance from the bed, I didn´t trust myself around Ana in times like this, when I was about to be overcome by an uncontrollable bout of rage.

"Christian, calm down. Don't do that, please. Look at me." I do as she asks, I can feel my eyes blazing. "Look at me, dammit Christian, I can´t move and I hate to see you like this, I hate it. Please."

The hurt in her voice is more than enough to convince me.

"It´s all right. Nothing ever happened to me! I wasn´t touched, I wasn´t even traumatized by the experience, I just don´t like to talk about it, just like I don´t like to talk about falling on my face in a full auditorium in my first day in college."

"Not the same thing, Ana!" I sigh deeply. "For fuck´s sake, you were…"

 _Seventeen._

She was _seventeen_.

Some pieces of the puzzle that was Anastasia Steele fell into place. Her irrational hatred towards Elena Lincoln. Why she had appeared so uncomfortable when she saw Jose´s photos of her in that exhibit, which he had taken _without her knowledge…_

 _Oh, Anastasia…_

I couldn´t wait to see what my security experts dug out about that fucker.

"Oh, you see why I didn´t want to tell you? I knew you would blow up and go all fifty shades on me again. Christian, please say something."

"All right," I approach the bed again, and sit next to her. "I´ll tell you two things only, and then we never talk about this anymore, if that is what you want, OK?"

"That is what I want. OK."

"Number one. I´ll be forever indebted to your mother for putting you in that plane back to Montesano when she did. And I am planning to tell that one day, I don´t care how mad she is at me or at you for bringing up the subject." She gulps, perhaps wondering about Carla´s reaction if I ever did what I promised, but then she nods her agreement.

"Are you kidding me? She'll never be mad at you, Christian, she adores you."

"Good. That´s settled. Number two, I´ll show you whatever we find on Stephen Morton as soon as I get the file, but I won´t do anything else without talking to you first. Deal?"

"Deal." She sounds immensely relieved.

I lean down and kiss her closed eyelids.

"Thank you for telling me, Anastasia" I whisper.

"You´re welcome. I seriously need a kiss now."

"I just gave you one."

"I need another."

"Greedy, Miss Steele?"

Playfully, I kiss the tip of her nose.

"Not there!" She pouts.

"No? Where then? Here?" I tease her with a quick peck on her inviting lips.

"You can do better than that, Mr. Grey."

 _There was no doubt about it!_

"I mean, it's definitely an improvement, but not quite what I have in mind."

"An improvement, mmmm? You're sure?" I touch her nose with mine.

"Yeah," she pretends to be in deep thoughts. "I would show you want I mean, but I'm kind of tied up at the moment." And I hear another one of her lovely giggles. I would never tire of those.

I raise a little to take a good appraising look at her body wrapped and tied in red ropes. The sight is so fucking amazing that I forget what is was about to say to put an end to our playful banter.

She calls me back to planet Earth.

"Hey, are you gonna leave it at that?" She teases me with a mock scowl. "Just one?"

"Come here you…"

Apart from touching, kissing might be the simplest of all sexual acts. Paradoxically, when rightly done, it can be the most intimate. Perhaps for that reason, it was never a favorite for me. Did I ever kiss my former subs? Of course I did, but it was always a calculated act, usually for their benefit, not mine. It was something I did when I wanted to seduce and arouse, encourage or soothe, sometimes reward them.

My last coherent thought before my lips touched and explored the velvety softness of her mouth was that Anastasia Steele was the one who taught me to rediscover the simple pleasure of a kiss. More than anything else, I was pouring my whole heart and soul in that kiss. I soon became not merely the giver, but a recipient as well. The seducer became the seduced.

I am lost.

She is ready.

I about to try for a first attempt, lifting her only a few inches from the ground, to test the ropes and the knots, to see if they were hurting her anywhere.

She looks amazingly like the model in that music video, except for a few minor changes – no body suit, for starters. As I had planned, I made some minor changes in respect to what we saw in the music video, so that the whole arrangement was more symmetrical and safer for her. A few extra knots were added, for stimulation. In my mind, this is more about pushing through limit than a possible sex marathon, the sensualist in me wasn´t aiming for debauchery, but instead for something beautiful, elegant, and most definitely erotic. The _kinky fuckery_ will be a mere consequence and our reward, so no spread legs at first. It´s more elegant this way, although I have never bothered with such subtleties before. However, that doesn´t mean I cannot change that with a slightest tug in a particular rope and a mere flick of my wrist.

Yes, Miss Steele is bound for a little surprise or two, no pun intended!

Anastasia never looked more stunning. I need to correct myself here. I said she looked like the girl in the videoclip, but no. She looks better than that model.

She´s _breathtaking_.

There are no other words to describe her.

I spent a good part of the past decade of my life building a financial empire practically from scratch and by sheer strength of will. I´ve been everywhere and I´ve experienced things that most men twice my age can only dream about. I have a mind designed for business, an above average IQ, I am blessed with a reasonable amount of musical talent. Yet, I was never able to create art outside of that playroom. Now looking at Anastasia lying on the bed, the ropes wrapped around her beautiful nude body, the knots placed strategically near her erogenous zones, the vivid, unbearably erotic contrast between the red of the rope and the whiteness of her skin… I thought maybe that was _my_ work of art.

And she is my muse.

 _Perfection._

I grimace, as I fix one of the knots near her waist that could potentially hurt her.

"That one tickles." She giggles.

 _Well, that is kind of the point of it, Miss Steele…_

Smiling, I test the strength of each of the eight ropes that would be supporting her from the ceiling.

"Quiet now, Anastasia," I warn gently. I tug at the ropes again. "I just want to make sure that this will be enough to support your body weight."

"That serves you right for making me eat all the time, Mr. Grey. _Eat, Anastasia,_ " she mimics my voice. " _You must eat!_ "

 _You are a little wisecrack when you apply yourself to it, aren´t you, Miss Steele?_

I kneel next to her, and run my hands along the sides of her body. After her little comeback I have to fight the temptation to flip her over and slap her butt a few times. However, that could potentially ruin all the work I´ve done so far, so I restrain myself. She starts twitching again, her arms and legs covered in goosebumps. Her skin is extra-sensitive, she had said, and it shows.

"I love the new you, Miss Steele. Round in all the places I like. You don´t look like I´ll break you in two when I fuck you hard."

"Poetic as usual, Mr. Grey."

I shrugged. Yes, I´d rather leave the beautiful and poetic words for her to use when she describes this. I´m more partial to a more blunt, crude kind of approach – although even that is changing around her.

"Forget the ropes, then. Remember what I told you? Think of them as an extension of my body."

"I do love your body," she lets out a satisfied sigh.

"I know. Pretend it's me carrying you, my arms, my hands."

"Hmm. I think I can do that!"

"OK. Ready?" I ask, standing up abruptly.

I give her no further warning.

"F… for what… ooohhh!

She starts giggling nervously when I raise her for the first time, barely a foot above the ground.

"Whaaat? Gaahh!"

She starts twitching, as if testing the ropes and the knots.

 _No, Anastasia, not yet._

I lower her immediately.

"Wow! That was interesting!"

 _Why isn't she taking this seriously? Doesn´t she understand how badly I can hurt her like this?_

"Stay still, Ana, you´ll hurt yourself like this. I am not lifting you again until you stop squirming, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"You have to keep still for a moment to see if there is any extra pressure anywhere. You must focus. Try to imagine yourself lying in bed, let yourself go, I need all your muscles to be relaxed. Don´t fight the ropes, let them support you. It´s me carrying you, remember? My hands, my arms. Let us try again."

"Okay… ahahahahhhhhh…"

No, not good. I barely lifted her half an inch above the bed when it began again. That infernal twisting.

"What did I tell you, Anastasia?" I know I sound impatient, and I hate that. Palms twitching, I steal the briefest glance at the cane still lying next to her.

 _Old habits…_

 _Don´t do it,_ I warn myself.

"I´m sorry, Christian. I can´t relax, I´m too… wired. I don´t know."

"I may have a solution for that," I say huskily, covering her lips with mine, while my hands slowly traveled down her body, following a path with scorching precision down to her newly shaved sex. My seeking fingers meet smooth skin coated in moisture.

 _Always ready for me, Miss Steele…_

I then realize I had never touched her there without the barrier of her natural body hair.

"Open your legs, Anastasia," I murmur.

"Do you really think this will help me relax?"

"Trust me, it will. It will take the edge for both of us."

"I like all your edges, Mr. Grey."

"Miss Steele..." I hold her tied hands above her head. "Keep them there," I tell her, even though I keep a firm hold on her hands with one of mine. "Stay still."

"Won´t it ruin all your work?"

"Not if I do it right…" I let her feel the brush of my whiskers against her neck, just the way I knew she liked it.

"Christian Grey, you´re a fucking sex god!"

 _Yes, that is the kind of thing that does wonders to a man´s ego._

She moans when she feels my other hand between her thighs, parting her wet folds.

I don´t waste any time. One single thrust and I´m buried deep inside her.

Too much. Too tight. Too fucking _good._

"The knots… They'll come undone." she pants.

I could always fix that later. Right now I want her to come undone. With me.

"Fuck the knots!"

I part her legs wider and plunge again to the hilt into her wet warmth. She cries out. There is no concern about hurting her this time, not like that day in Charlie Tango. Today she is more than ready for me. Still, I ask.

"Is this OK?"

Her fingers entwine with mine, my hands still holding her bound hands tightly.

"Christian, please."

It is all the encouragement I need. I start to move slowly, cautiously, rotating my hips in a way I knew that drove her crazy. Beneath me, she writhed, she gasped.

"Is this the way you want it, Anastasia? Easy? Or rough?"

"You know how I like it."

"I need you to tell me." I press into her, deeply. She arcs her back, tightening her legs around my hips.

"This one is all for you, baby. Tell me, who do you want now, the lover or the Dom. I´ll give it to you."

I feel her tight inner walls squeezing me. She is fucking killing me.

"Can I have them both?"

"Always. We aim to please, Miss Steele."

And please her I did.


End file.
